


The Fairytales Have Nothing On Me

by chibi_nightowl



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Awkward Sexual Situations, Crack, Endgame JayTim, F/M, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Sex fails, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Tim fails at being a damsel in distress, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24504142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: Prince Timothy Drake swears his life is nothing like a fairytale. Until it is and he's forced to take on the role of a damsel in distress.Screw that.
Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 186
Kudos: 644





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story would not be what it is without the help of Bumpkin. Thank you so much for all the long nights on Discord! 
> 
> Beta read by the lovely FictionSuit.
> 
> Also, this fic is endgame JayTim, so please keep that in mind.

Once upon a time in a faraway land, a son was born to the King and Queen. Their struggles to provide the kingdom with an heir were legendary and some even whispered that they had bargained with the Faeries, that the newborn prince was no son of the King, but a changeling bestowed upon them by the Fae. 

This was all nonsense, of course. The Queen, while she may have consulted with some Faeries about aids to ensure conception, did things the old-fashioned way with her husband the King. They had sex. Lots of it, in fact, which was something their son despaired of when he learned the story that surrounded his birth. No child ever wanted to know exactly how they were conceived after all. 

But this is skipping too far ahead, so let’s back up a little. 

When the Queen gave birth to a healthy boy, the celebration was unlike any the kingdom had ever seen before. The fireworks display above the castle was the talk for many a year and the King ordered his wine cellars opened so that all might partake. Needless to say, many people didn’t quite remember the next few days, so the three small lights that were seen flashing from the Queen’s bedchamber couldn’t be confirmed from any reliable sources. 

The Faeries had come to bless the birth of the child. The kingdom and the Old Forest they called home shared an eastern border and under the rule of House Drake, there had been no hostilities between the two realms for nearly three centuries. Each ruler of the kingdom was blessed at birth with three gifts from the Faeries, virtues that they believed would help maintain the peace. 

Red, Green, and Blue all approach the bed where the Queen rests with her newborn child. Her eyes open as they circle around. She’s not from this kingdom, but the King had warned her of what to expect, so she does not sound an alarm. 

“Welcome,” she greets them instead. “My husband isn’t here– he’s drinking in the main hall. Should I summon him?” 

At this point, she doubts it will do any good. Their son had been born late this morning, so the King is already knackered six ways to Sunday and won’t remember a thing, even if he does somehow manage his way up the stairs without breaking his neck. 

“He doesn’t need to be here,” replies the Red Faerie, in a distinctly feminine tone. 

“He’s pissed drunk,” says the Green Faerie sourly. “You humans always do things to such excess.” 

“Hush,” soothes the Blue Faerie. “Like you haven’t gotten drunk on nectar before.” 

“That’s different!” 

Before the argument goes any further, the Red Faerie lands on the coverlet, the light from her wings extinguishing to reveal a small form with brilliant red hair and pert little breasts. Apparently, Faeries don’t wear clothing. “Ignore them,” she says, resting her hands on the swaddling clothes that contain the baby. “They could go on all night if you let them.” 

The Green Faerie grumbles, but joins his counterpart, revealing a male form that is dark of skin and pouting fiercely. “He’s an idiot.” 

“You just don’t like that I can drink more than you,” the Blue Faerie states as he too lands on the coverlet beside the Red Faerie. His body is somehow more mature than the other and has long blue stripes painted down his arms. 

The Queen is starting to become nervous. This isn’t exactly what her husband had told her to expect. Have times changed so much since his birth? 

There is no mistaking the eye roll from the Red Faerie. “Focus, you two,” she warns, then clears her throat and draws back the cloth to reveal the baby’s face. “Aww, look how cute you are,” she coos. 

“He’s red and wrinkly,” says the Green Faerie, frowning. 

“Hush, he just came out of the oven.” The Blue Faerie leans in and waggles his tiny fingers. “Does he have a name yet?” 

“Timothy,” answers the Queen faintly, unable to take her eyes off the three Faeries and their, well, _everything._ She has a healthy appreciation for what goes on behind closed doors and these Faeries, especially the Blue and Red ones, were perfection in miniature. Would it be gauche to ask if they could return one day so she can paint them? It’s the one artful skill her myriad of tutors had been successful in teaching her. 

“Hello, Timothy,” says the Blue Faerie. “Welcome to the world! We’ve got some gifts for you. If you sneeze from the Faerie dust, it’s okay. The gifts will settle faster if you do.” 

The Green Faerie huffs. “Let’s get this over with.” He steps up onto Timothy’s chest and crouches in front of the baby’s face. “I give you the gift of intelligence. In my opinion, it’s never been particularly strong in your line, so you better do something useful with it.” 

The words are punctuated with a dusting of green dust that settles over the child, who promptly sneezes and opens his eyes. 

“Look how blue they are!” the Blue Faerie exclaims. “Oh, I hope they stay that way. Brown is just so boring.” 

“You’re biased,” retorts the Green Faerie as he withdraws. 

“Of course I am.” The Blue Faerie replaces his counterpart and kneels. “My little lord, I consulted with a Seer before I came here to see what gift would be best for you. She saw a great love in your life, so my gift to you is this – may you know only the greatest pleasure when you are with your true love.” 

The Red Faerie claps her hands together in delight. “A true love! How wonderful.” 

A fine blue powder settles on Timothy and he sneezes again, little face crinkling in what can even now be called frustration over all this dust. 

“I know, right?” The Blue Faerie extends a hand for the Red Faerie, but she flutters up without his help. 

“This makes my gift seem paltry by comparison.” The Red Faerie purses her lips as she re-thinks her blessing. “I have it! Intelligence and true love are all fine and dandy, but what good are they if you don’t have the stamina to keep up with either one?” She blows a cloud of red Faerie dust in Timothy’s face. 

He sneezes again. 

As the Faeries congratulate themselves on a job well done, the Queen muses on the gifts her son has received. Intelligence is definitely something she could see being useful, especially considering who her husband is, but an excess of stamina? She can already feel the migraine brewing at the very thought of her child bouncing off the castle walls. Timothy had better find his true love soon because she sure doesn’t want to deal with that on her own. 

Maybe it’s time to look into that diplomat training the Ambassador from the High King had discussed with her, shortly after she married her husband. If she isn’t here, then it’s not her problem now is it?

* * *

The years pass and children, as they so often do, grow up. 

Prince Timothy grew into a handsome young man, which was a prerequisite for princes apparently, or so he determined after reading the fairy tales and histories of those who came before him. He was generous and kind, if a little sharp of tongue and often impatient with those who couldn’t keep up with his quick mind. The Green Faerie’s blessing sometimes felt like a curse when he had to repeat himself for the umpteenth time. 

But with age came wisdom and a softening of those edges as he learned not to sharpen his wit on everyone around him. Making friends was a challenge, so he treasured the few he had. 

Such as Kon-El, the prince of neighboring Kandor. Tim thought he was a bit of a tool at first, but eventually, the oaf grew on him. It helped that they were the same age and had the same set of responsibilities. 

He was also handsome as hell and as they grew older, it quickly became clear that the interest was reciprocated. 

It was during this time that Tim entered a phase of his life that he later dubbed the _Age of Extreme Frustration._

Glancing looks and lingering touches soon led to stolen moments in the stairwell or behind a bookcase in the library where they were supposed to be studying. Young and eager kisses that were sloppy and wet soon grew more skilled as they learned other lessons from each other. Hands explored along the outside of their clothing and soon grew bold enough to slip inside. 

The first time Kon strokes Tim to completion, he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. Warm, callused skin against such a sensitive piece of flesh, gripping him firmly even as their lips plunder each other. Keeping quiet is their main concern as this time, they’d snuck away from a ball for some foreign dignitary they don’t give two fucks about. 

Not when they have each other. 

“Tiiiim,” Kon groans as he relearns how to see straight. “My turn?” 

Wordlessly, Tim falls to his knees, already fumbling with the laces to free his friend’s straining length. They’ve been working their way to this point for weeks now. It’s going to be messy, but he doesn’t care. The party in the ballroom isn’t one he’s required to attend, so if he disappears early, no one will miss him. 

Kon’s dick springs free, nearly smacking Tim in the face. He isn’t complaining as it’s right where he wants it. Gripping the base, he tentatively licks up one side and down the other. Above him, Kon drops a hand to his head and drags his fingers through his hair. 

Feeling bolder with the encouragement, Tim laps at the drooling tip, swirling his tongue like he would with an ice cream. He goes to close his mouth around it and abruptly stops as he hits a barrier. 

What? 

He draws back and looks closer. Nope, nothing there. Just a cock, twitching impatiently and dripping with pre-cum. 

“Come on, man,” Kon urges. “Stop teasing.” 

Tim tries again. 

And again. 

And again.

Growling in frustration, he tears himself out of Kon’s grip and glares. “What are you doing?” 

Kon chokes. “What am I doing? What are you doing? Fucking cock-tease.” 

Tim smacks Kon’s thigh dangerously close to his swaying dick. “Each time I try to close my mouth, I hit something and I can’t. What gives?” The Kandorians are known to have mages in their bloodline, a remnant from intermingling with the Fae many generations back. Maybe Kon doesn’t know he’s doing it? 

“Why would I stop you from sucking my cock?” Kon grits out as Tim reaches out to stroke it again, this time in curiosity to see if there’s some unseen barrier to be dealt with. 

“Internalized homophobia?”

Kon growls, yanking on Tim’s hair to drag his mouth back where he wants it. “I don’t know what that means, but I want your mouth on my dick, okay?” 

Okay. That’s good because Tim wants his mouth on Kon’s dick too. 

He tries to do just that and is once again foiled in his attempt to close his mouth around the tip. 

“Fuck this.” Tim doesn’t want to spare the brainpower to figure out this riddle. Instead, he resumes licking and tightens his grip so that Kon can thrust into his hand. 

It works, and his friend’s release comes a minute later, spilling over onto Tim’s fingers. 

He’s more than ready for round two, but now that orgasms have been had, he turns back to the problem at hand. Raising his fingers, his tongue darts out to taste the tacky fluid. But he can’t, no matter how hard he tries to put them in his mouth. 

The hell? 

Kon watches him with some bemusement. “Having a problem?” 

Standing, Tim shoves his fingers in Kon’s mouth. While his friend chokes, he frowns, withdrawing them. 

“What the fuck, Tim?” 

“I’m testing something.” He tries to put his fingers in his mouth and nope, not happening. There’s the backside of a tapestry at hand and he wipes them down on the finely stitched fabric, then tries again. 

It works. 

“Have you ever done this before?” he asks, turning a curious gaze on his best friend.

“No? I’d have told you if I had.” 

Tim hums, losing himself in thought. “It’s like there was something stopping me from sucking on you or licking you clean. Your TTK acting up at all?”

Kon frowns. “Not that I’m aware of. I mean, seriously. Why would I not want you to suck my dick?” 

“I think we’ll have to test this some more.” Tim flashes a grin and Kon’s eyes brighten. 

“Yes please. Maybe in a bed this time?” 

The tapestry is suddenly jerked aside and both teens scramble to pull up their trousers, fumbling to hide exactly what they’d been up to.

“There you are,” comes the brisk tone of Queen Janet, Tim’s harridan of a mother. “I need you right now.” 

She yanks Tim away from Kon before he has a chance to finish tying his laces. “Mother! I need a second!” 

“I really don’t care what you boys do with each other,” she says, tapping her foot with some impatience while her son sets himself to rights. “As long as you do it behind closed doors instead of a wall-hanging in the sunroom.” 

“The door was closed,” Kon offers, adjusting Tim’s jacket. He pauses, then runs his hand through Tim’s hair. “Uh, Tim?”

“What?” Tim growls irritably. 

“You, uh, might want to wash your hair tonight.” Kon does something with his hair, tugging on the ends before slicking it back. 

A sickening suspicion grows in Tim’s stomach and he claps his hand over his head. “You didn’t.” 

“I did?” 

“Your hair looks fine,” the Queen interrupts, taking hold of her son’s arm once more. “Now come on. There’s a potential wife I want you to meet.” 

Tim groans as his mother drags him away. Great. Just great. He gets to meet a prospective bride with cum in his hair.

* * *

Stephanie isn’t so bad. She’s rather fun actually and once they get over the whole awkwardness inherent in the situation, Tim believes he can see them getting along well if she’s the one he ends up marrying. 

He’s fairly certain she has no idea what’s in his hair either.

* * *

It takes a month before Tim and Kon can find the time to disappear together for a few hours and _explore_ the extent to which the problem occurs. Every lock on the chamber door is employed to keep out unwanted visitors. 

Kon falls back onto the not-so-crisp bed linens, exhausted to the bone despite the power of his third release still humming through his veins. Sweaty and covered in cum, Tim rolls off him and reaches for the quill pen on the nightstand beside the bed. 

“You’re such a freak,” his friend pants, learning how to breathe again. 

“It’s _science_ ,” Tim replies, checking off an item from the list he’d prepared ahead of time. It’s a long list. 

“I think we’ve got it figured out.” Kon raises a hand and ticks off his fingers. “Your dick can’t go in my mouth or my ass. My dick can’t go in your mouth or ass. Hands work just fine. Rutting against each other works just fine, as long as neither of us slips up and tries to stick a dick where it doesn’t belong.”

Tim flops back down beside his friend. “The real question is though, is it me or is it you?”

Kon purses his lips, red and swollen from the amount of time he’s spent using them on his partner. “I dunno. I mean, I’ve got Fae blood in me and you’ve been blessed by them, so it could really go either way.” 

The blessings. Tim hasn’t thought about them as being a possible issue, but now that he does, one of them is the obvious standout. “I’m supposed to have a true love.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Kon looks over at him. “Clearly, it’s not me.” 

Tim elbows him in the ribs. “Duh. I knew that already.” 

“Ouch!” Kon clutches his chest in mock despair. “You wound me! Right here! And here I thought we had something special.” 

“We do.” Tim shrugs and presses a kiss into Kon’s shoulder. “But it’s just not that.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Kon wraps an arm around him and holds him close. “You better hope that whoever your mom picks to marry your ass is your true love though. Because if she’s not, there’s going to be a problem.”

* * *

A couple of years later, when Tim marries Stephanie, it quickly becomes obvious that Kon is a damned prophet because there is most definitely a problem. 

Stephanie is gorgeous. Golden hair, luscious curves, and quite possibly the most beautiful pair of breasts Tim has ever laid eyes on. But despite all the worshipping he does to make her scream in delight beneath him, there’s one little thing he can’t do. 

“Goddammit!” He rolls over and curses some more as it’s the only thing he can do. 

“What’s wrong?” his new wife asks, gently touching his arm. “Tim, what is it?” 

He cracks open an eye and rakes over the perfection that is his wife. His cock strains, eager to slip between her folds and fully consummate their marriage. “I’ve got a little problem.” 

Steph chuckles and traces a bold finger along the length of his dick. “I don’t see a problem here.” 

It’s easier to demonstrate than speak. Tim catches hold of her waist and drags her over his body, seating her over his thighs. Taking hold of his _problem_ , he holds it steady. Stephanie gets the clue—he thanks the gods that she’s not some blushing maid who has no idea how sex works—and adjusts herself, slowly spreading her slick folds to rub along the stiff length of his cock. Her form is on full display, from the soft planes of her stomach all the way up to her breasts and the stiffened peaks of her rosy nipples.

He wants it all. _Needs_ it all with a desperation he never felt with Kon. 

Then she tries to slip his dick inside her body. 

And can’t. 

She tries again. 

And again. 

Consternation crosses her face and she leans over to peer at her soaked curls. The head of Tim’s cock is right where it should be, just…not going where they both want it. 

“What the hell?” 

Tim sighs and rakes an exhausted hand over his face. He’s been afraid of this, although he kept telling himself throughout his engagement that Stephanie is perfect for him and compliments his prickly nature in so many ways. “I think I’m cursed,” he mutters. 

Steph tries to lower herself again and frowns harder when she can’t. “I thought you were blessed by the Faeries when you were born?” 

“I was. Two of the blessings I think are actually that – intelligence and stamina. But the last one…” 

“The last one?” his wife prods when Tim is silent for too long. 

“I’m supposed to have a true love. And I’m starting to think that the only person I’ll ever be able to have full-on, penetrative sex with is them.” 

“Then we have a little problem and it’s not just this.” She gestures between her legs. “How are we supposed to produce an heir if you can’t fuck me?” 

Tim startles at the blunt choice of words and falls in love with Stephanie a little bit more. It’s a damned shame she isn’t his true love because wow, they’re going to get along fantastically. “I don’t know. But we’ve got time to figure it out.” 

“We do,” Steph agrees and settles back on his thighs, reaching out to stroke his cock. “In the meantime, am I able to at least do this?” 

Moaning into her touch, he nods. “Yeah. You definitely can do that.”

* * *

A year passes and Tim is, for the most part, happy with his life. He’s taking over more responsibilities from his father and Stephanie is gladly learning the art of diplomacy from his mother. There is plenty of love and laughter between them, and they’ve made do with the lot that those stupid Faeries threw at him. 

The first year together seems to have been the grace year though as the whispers and rumors start swirling through the halls of the castle at the start of the second. 

_“When will Princess Stephanie have a child?”_

_“Is the Princess pregnant yet?”_

_“It’s just like the King and Queen all over again. What are the Prince and Princess up to?”_

There isn’t a rumor of an affair at least, a fact that Tim is quietly grateful for. It’s solid fact that he and his wife share a bedchamber every night. They had dispensed with the customary separate chambers and moved into a suite of rooms together not long after their marriage, mostly as a preventative measure against such rumors. He has enough problems with his sex life as it is. 

One evening, he’s in bed reading over a dry treatise full of legalese, which never fails to put him to sleep, when Stephanie bounds in and lands in a graceless flop on their bed. She rolls over and grins up at him. 

Tim glances down and smiles. Her energy is infectious. “What has you all excited?” 

“I have an idea that might help with our little problem.” 

He sits up straighter. “I’m all ears.” 

“I had a meeting with Mrs. Mac this afternoon down in the kitchens. While we were talking, I noticed something Cook was using on the roasted turkey we had for dinner.” 

Tim narrows his eyes. “What?” 

From the folds of her gown, Stephanie withdraws a curious device with a bulb at one end and a long tube with a narrow opening at the other. “It’s a turkey baster.” 

“A what?” 

She laughs at his confusion. “If you insert this end in liquid and squeeze this soft part, then release it, liquid is sucked up into the tube. And if you insert it in something else and squeeze, the liquid comes back out.” 

Tim bites his lip as he catches on to what his wife is implying. They’ve tried some crazy things in the last year, but this takes the cake. “Oh.” 

“Come on.” Stephanie curls up against him and presses a kiss to his bare shoulder. “What do you have to lose?” 

“What remains of my pride?” A turkey baster? Really? Is this how low he’s sunk? 

“That went out flying out the door long ago.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” 

“This has to work, Tim. It _has_ to.”

* * *

It doesn’t.

* * *

Another year passes, then another. By now, there’s no escaping the rumors. Some are vicious and ugly while others are full of sympathy. But they’re all directed at Stephanie, like her being unable to conceive is somehow _her_ fault. 

It’s really starting to piss Tim off and he says as much over dinner with his mother one night. 

Queen Janet sets down her spoon and gestures to the footman standing quietly in the corner. “Leave us.” 

The man disappears, no doubt off to start another new rumor about trouble in the royal family. 

“I was afraid this would happen,” she admits once they’re alone. “Your father and this kingdom take great stock in those Faerie blessings upon the royal line, but as far as I can tell, they’re not especially helpful.” 

Tim swirls his wine glass and takes a sip. “What were Father’s? I don’t think I ever heard.” He knows he hasn’t; he’d have remembered. 

“Song, charm, and grace.” 

No wonder his father is always the life of the party and his mother is the power behind the throne. She was probably thrilled to pieces that one of his blessings is intelligence. 

“Mother, I know you’ve told me in general terms what my blessings are, but do you remember the exact wording? Perhaps there’s a clue in there that could help me unravel a little problem I’m having.” 

The Queen arches a finely sculpted brow. “You can’t get it up with your wife?” 

Tim chokes. “What? No, no, it’s not that… Well, not entirely.” Dear gods, he’s about to have an in-depth sex talk with his mother. This is utterly humiliating. 

“Then what is it?” 

“I can get it up just fine. It’s just that… I can’t put it in her. Or anyone else for that matter.” His ears burn with the admission. 

Queen Janet is polite enough to raise a hand to her mouth in an attempt to hide her grin. “It’s the Blue Faerie who did this to you,” she says, humor laced throughout her words. “He said he consulted with a Seer prior to coming here and said there was to be a great love in your life. His exact words were _may you know only the greatest pleasure when you are with your true love_.” 

Tim wants to slam his head into the table. “That _bastard._ I’m happy with Stephanie! I truly am! I’d be even happier if I could just put my dick where it needs to go! Why the hell did he do that to me?” 

“I’m noticing a significant lack of a certain word here,” the Queen comments in a level tone. “Do you love Stephanie?” 

Shit. 

Sighing, he collapses back in his chair, good posture and manners be damned. “I do.” 

“But?” 

“But it’s like the way I love Kon. We’re great friends and we enjoy each other’s company.” 

“Loudly and often if the servants talk is to be believed.” 

Tim cracks open an eye and glares. “Just because I can’t get off in the normal way means I’m neglecting her.” 

“Good.” Queen Janet then lets out a sigh to match her son’s. “I’m sorry, Tim. But as much as you and Stephanie get along, if there isn’t even the possibility of an heir, then you know what needs to happen.” 

“I refuse to divorce my wife. The shame that would come with that, she doesn’t deserve it.” 

“I agree, but that’s something I’ll work on. What we need to do is figure out how to find your true love.” 

“I suppose you have an idea?” 

A sly smile appears on the Queen’s face. “Why yes, I think I do.”

* * *

Two weeks later, Tim drops the last of his bundles on the floor of his new home. When his mother said she had an idea to help find his true love, this _wasn’t_ what he had in mind. This being a cottage in the Old Forest just over the border in the neutral zone between the Drake lands and those of the Fae.

He glares up at the sagging roof and the patches of sunlight that shine through the thatching. Unlike the faerie tales, he doesn’t have magic mice or a Faerie Godmother to fix the holes. No, he has only himself. 

Fuck his life. 

“You going to be okay out here?” Kon asks, leaning against the doorframe. 

At least he’d been allowed an escort. 

“No,” Tim retorts with some disgust. “I’m fucking exiled because I can’t properly fuck my wife. Oh, excuse me. _Your_ wife now.” 

That was the other part of his mother’s grand plan. While he’s languishing out here in the middle of nowhere like some damsel in distress waiting for her handsome prince, his best friend and now ex-wife get to go on with their lives together. He can already imagine the stories they’ll share about the sex fails they’ve had with him.

Kon sighs and drapes an arm over his shoulders. “Tim, buddy. We’ve been friends forever. My parents have long despaired of finding me a wife and we both know I have adored Stephanie from day one. I am _glad_ to be able to help you, to help both of you.” 

“I know.” Tim closes his eyes and leans into his friend. “I just—I feel like a complete failure. As a friend, as a husband. As a prince.” 

“You are not a failure.” Kon taps Tim’s head. “You are a freaky little genius who has done so much good for his kingdom, as well as mine because I’m your best friend who just rides on your coattails. You are Timothy Drake and there is nothing you can’t do.” 

“Except have sex.” 

“Yeah, I think we might need to redefine the standards of what that means because seriously, some of the things we used to get up to would make even the worldliest courtier blush.” 

Tim chuckles at that. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

“No probably about it.” Kon grins and presses a kiss to Tim’s cheek. “You _will_ get through this. You will find your true love and drag them back to your castle come Hell or high water.” 

Taking in his surroundings, Tim rolls his eyes at his friend’s optimism. “Hell, certainly, but I don’t think high water is something I have to worry about.” He glances up. “A new roof though…” 

“Need help?” 

“Only if you want to send a thatcher out here to help me.” His new home is a water damaged mess and will probably take the rest of the summer to put to rights. “Finding a true love out in the middle of nowhere isn’t going to be easy.” 

“That’s the beauty of your mom’s plan! They’re going to come to you! Once the rumors take off, you’ll be fighting off suitors with a stick.” 

“Have you forgotten the part where I only know if they’re my true love is when I try to have sex with them?”

It shouldn’t be too bad. Most knights are male and of those, he doubts less than a handful even look at another man as a potential bedpartner. If a female adventurer comes forth, he already knows convincing them to sleep with him will be a challenge. 

Still, in the back of his mind, he knows that when the right person comes along, if they ever do, it’ll just _click_. Like two pieces that have long been parted suddenly coming together as one. 

That’s the best he can really hope for. 

“Think of it this way. You’ve already got tons of experience. At least everyone involved will have a good time.” 

“Something you and Steph will reap the benefits of too.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Kon rubs the back of his head, looking a little nervous. “So, about that. Anything in particular she likes? Doesn’t like?” 

Tim casts an incredulous look at his best friend. “I am _not_ going to tell you how to fuck my ex-wife.” 

That’s something Stephanie is more than capable of doing on her own.


	2. Chapter 2

Living in a cottage in the middle of the woods sucks as far as Tim is concerned. He was raised a Prince, not a Woodsman, and even his vaunted intelligence is stretched to capacity as he tries to keep something as basic as a roof over his head. Survival takes precedence to any pining and languishing he’s supposed to be doing.

He does find himself cursing a lot more though. 

Still, he perseveres, because what else can he do? The books he brought with he’s determined to save for winter as that’s a thing he now has to be overly concerned about too. His mother promised regular supply drops, but after seeing how difficult the road was out here, let alone the trail in the woods, there’s no way someone from the castle will find their way out here after the first significant snow. 

So he tackles the roof and once that’s resolved to some level of satisfaction—leakproof, as proven by a battering storm—he’s able to turn his sights on the next project. 

The decidedly overgrown garden. Weeding introduces him to an entire new level of backpain he didn't know existed until now. How the hell is this a _hobby_ for some people?

One book he decides to bring out early is a gardening book he’d snatched from the library at the last moment and he’s now very glad he did. There is so much more to making things grow than just tilling the earth and throwing seeds around. He knew this before as agriculture is a prime source of income for his kingdom. But having to practice it himself gives him a new appreciation for farmers. 

His main problem is that it’s too late in the season to start anything significant once the ground is prepared, so his pitiful supply of seeds will have to wait for spring. But the book is illustrated, and provides plenty of descriptions for edible plants that he can forage, and even store during the lean months.

This is how he ends up meeting the Witch of the Woods. 

Tim dangles upside down from a tree, a thick vine wrapped around his ankle has him spinning around in a slow circle. On the ground, just out of reach, is his book and rucksack, filled with wild onions. 

“Whom do we have here?” a richly feminine voice asks from somewhere behind him. “A stranger. A _male_ stranger.”

She doesn’t sound pleased at that part. 

“I’m Tim,” he says, figuring honesty is the best policy here. “I moved into the old woodsman’s cottage on the other side of the stream a couple of months ago.”

“I know,” replies the unseen person. “You’ve been making enough noise to wake a bear in winter.” 

“Sorry about that. I’ve never had to fix a roof before.” At least he’d had a saw. And a hammer! His mother saw fit to give him practical tools besides the axe he remembered to pack himself.

“So tell me, _Tim._ Why have you come to reside in my woods? I thought I made it rather clear that humans weren’t welcome here.” 

“Umm, I didn’t know this?” Tim spins enough to where he can see who he’s speaking with. A red-haired woman stands beside the maple tree, her pale skin tinted in shades of green. A Fae? “I kind of had the whole languishing in the woods thing thrown at me at the last moment. It didn’t leave me with much time to prepare, let alone choose where I was going.”

He’s still pissed at his mother about this.

“You are exiled, then?” She doesn’t appear happy.

“Sort of? I’ve got a bit of a problem because the Blue Faerie cursed me with a true love. According to my mother, this can only be solved by languishing in the woods like some damsel in distress, so here I am.” Shrugging upside down is difficult, but he manages it. “I really am sorry about the noise. I think the roof is fixed, so I shouldn’t be too much of a bother going forward.”

The woman steps forward from the shadows of the tree, and wow, she’s not wearing a thing. Tim does the smart thing and keeps his eyes trained on the ground and her feet because looking up is only going to imply he’s checking out her breasts. 

Green nipples, who knew? 

“Did you say the Blue Faerie?” she asks. 

“I did. I was _blessed_ at birth.” The emphasis makes very clear what he thinks about that. “By the Green, Blue, and Red Faeries.” 

“I know the three you’re speaking of,” the woman says, this time with a hint of humor in her voice. “The Blue one in particular is a bit of a dick.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I was only a few hours old, so I don’t remember them at all.” 

The vine suddenly unravels, and Tim falls to the ground, landing hard on his shoulders. 

“There really isn’t much you can do about your situation,” the woman pronounces. “Except to wait.” 

Tim grimaces at the newest bruise in his collection and sits up, still keeping his eyes trained to the ground since waist high isn’t going to do him any good either. “I know. Doesn’t help that the only way I’ll know my true love is to attempt to have sex with them.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

He explains about the nature of his particular curse and what he’s had to give up. “I’m sorry to unload all of this on you,” he says as he finishes. The woman had taken a seat against the trunk of the tree as he spoke, listening intently. “It’s just frustrating and you’re the first person I’ve seen in a couple of months.” 

“You loved your wife?” 

It’s not the question Tim expects, but he nods, fiddling with a loose string on his shirt. “I did. Still do for that matter, even though she’s not my true love. We were happy together. That has to count for something, right? Love is love.” 

He tries very hard not to think about Stephanie and Kon and what they’re able to do with each other that he never could. 

“I agree with you in that respect, although, having known true love myself, I can honestly say there’s nothing quite like it in the world.” Her voice takes on a distant tone. “Losing that love drove me insane and led me here where I could find some semblance of peace.” 

Tim hangs his head. “Then I am most definitely sorry for disrupting your solitude and your grief. I will find somewhere else to go.” 

The woman holds up a hand. “No. You may stay. You are articulate and educated, and clearly willing to move forward and do what needs to be done instead of sitting around like some insipid twit.” She gestures at the book. “What is that?” 

He picks it up and hands it to her. “My guide to gardening and not poisoning myself living out here in the woods.” 

She laughs at his words and flips through the pages before handing it back to him. “This book is a start, but it won’t teach you everything.” 

“It’s better than nothing.” 

“True. But you are now my neighbor and it would be most unkind if I did not share some of my knowledge with you.” 

Grinning, Tim places the book in his rucksack. “Then I am in your hands, my lady.” 

“You can call me Ivy.”

* * *

The only reason Tim survives the first winter is because of Ivy. He’s prepared, mostly, but the last delivery of his winter supplies never arrives, so he doesn’t have winter clothing or the extra blankets and furs he’d been hoping for. Cutting down a live tree for firewood is out of the question, so once it becomes clear he’s stuck with what he has, Ivy takes him further afield in search of dead and dry wood he can use for fuel. She hibernates through the winter, much like the trees she calls home, so once she’s asleep, he’s on his own. 

As he sits before his crackling fire, reading his books, and tugging his thin blankets around his shoulders, he thanks Ivy and curses the Blue Faerie in the same breath. Ivy was right, he really is a dick. 

Spring comes and Tim feels like he’s emerging from a coma as he steps outside and doesn’t immediately freeze his balls off. First things first, he plants the special pumpkin seeds Ivy had given him before she retired for the winter. 

_“Plant these when the crocus start to bloom, even if there is still snow on the ground. My babies are hardy and will survive.”_

He’s been looking forward to this. 

One of the books he’d started reading during the fall was the _Reginae Periculum_ , a treatise on the expectations of what a damsel in distress should do while waiting to be rescued by her true love. Queen Janet had given it to him with a smirk and if Tim were a lesser person, he’d have thrown it at her after glancing through a few of the chapters. 

He has no intention of following any of the guidelines laid out for him here. No, he fully plans to turn each and every single one of them on their heads.

Starting with the man-eating pumpkins.

They’re actually rodent-eating pumpkins and are supposed to be placed around the perimeter of his garden to keep pests out, but he likes his name for them better. He plants seeds around the cottage because there is definitely a mouse problem in there too. He’d caught several over the course of the winter and thrown them outside.

The owl that lives in the beech tree just outside his fence loves him. This is the closest Tim comes to charming a wild creature into being a companion. He’s willing to concede this point to the book as it’s lonely as fuck out here. No wonder the princesses sing all the time. 

He also takes a perverse amount of joy in cutting his hair. It looks like crap when he’s done, but he doesn’t care. 

When Ivy wakes up from her long winter’s nap, she laughs at him. “Do you have any idea what you’re even doing?”

“Nope,” Tim says with a proud grin as his friend tangles her fingers in his hacked locks. “Besides, it’s not like I live in a tower and need it to let my wicked stepmother in.”

“I know of a tower, deep in the woods. It needs a new roof and has been the roost to a flock of wood-pigeons for the last decade.”

The thought of all the bird crap he’d have to clear out has him grimacing. “Hard pass.”

Ivy laughs. “Where are your scissors? I think I can fix this so you don’t end up with a nest on your head.”

With the arrival of spring, there are also visitors to the cottage. Or rather, visitors for the non-existent princess who’s supposed to live here. 

True to form, the story of the languishing prince quickly turns into a princess at some point in the telling. Most of the adventurers and knights who make their way through the wood leave in disappointment as Tim isn’t quite what they expected. The distinct lack of breasts and presence of a cock are deal-breakers, apparently. 

There is one rather persistent asshole who’s willing to go all the way, but Tim has these things called _standards_ , and a knight who can’t keep his gear in good repair, let alone bathe, isn’t going anywhere near his dick. 

“Would you believe he dropped his trousers right there and started swinging his cock around?” he grouses to Ivy later that evening as they sit in an open field under a sky full of stars. “I swear, I saw fleas dropping from him as soon they had a chance to breathe.” 

She falls over from laughing so hard, tears running down her face. “Oh, Tim. Only you.” 

Spring also brings with it a fresh shipment of supplies from his parents, as well as a bundle full of letters from Steph and Kon. Reading those are painful, but Tim knows they’re only trying to keep his spirits up.

It nearly kills him to learn that Stephanie is pregnant with their first child. 

He throws himself into his work rather than think about it. 

The well gets a new crank, one that’s much more efficient for hauling up water from the depths. Thanks to the new support beam from a lightning-blasted oak, as well as Ivy’s help, the saggy roof no longer sags. Tim doesn’t question how it appears on his doorstep the day they need it. For all he knows, it got up and walked here.

What brings him the most entertainment are his pumpkins. They’re not any larger than his head, but they’re vicious little things that will gnaw on anything that moves, including him if he doesn’t stroke them the right way to calm them down. Especially the ones closest to the house. Planting them there probably wasn’t the smartest idea since Poppy seems to have this fixation on getting into the cottage. Everyday, he has to move the gourd off the front step.

Tim swears it wants to eat him. 

The owl no longer loves him after he starts leaving his scraps out for the pumpkins in the garden. They’re apparently too effective at their job because rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks give his little clearing a wide berth now. Fine, he’s an asshole anyway. 

Summer passes into fall and Tim feels he’s better prepared for winter this time around. His last supply shipment arrives when it’s supposed to and contains new books for him to read, fresh parchment for his writing, and, most importantly, winter clothes and new boots. 

He does have to deal with one last potential suitor as the leaves are turning red and gold. 

“Aren’t you a little old to be chasing after a fireside tale?” he asks the man from the other side of his hungry pumpkin patch. White hair and an eye-patch, this guy has seen some mileage. Good equipment though, and that is a very nice piece of horseflesh he’s riding. The gelding reminds him of the horse he’d left in Kon’s care. 

“Perhaps, but when you get to be my age, the only way to go out is with a bang. Besides, you’re not the one I came here to find.” 

Tim cocks his head to the side. “Who then?” 

“Do you know anyone who goes by Poison Ivy?”

The consummate diplomat, he doesn’t let a hint of his surprise cross his features. “I have,” he replies, knowing that a partial truth will make the lie to come that much easier to swallow. “Kind of hard to live out here and not know about the Witch of the Woods.” 

“Know where I can find her?”

“What do I get out of it?” 

The grizzled old knight leers, looking him up and down with clear intent. “Someone to keep you company this winter? I ain’t your true love, but there’s still so much we can do to keep warm.”

No thanks. This guy is giving him the creeps. But Tim allows a considering smile to grace his lips. “Keep going down the trail and take the left branch when it splits at the base of a massive oak tree. Can’t miss it. You’ll have to cross the stream soon after, but if you keep going in that direction for about a day, she’ll find you.” 

“Interesting turn of phrase.” 

Tim shrugs. “She doesn’t have a house, but if there’s a place where she can be found, it’s out in that way. She doesn’t like people and the only reason I’m allowed to stay is because I’m touched by the Faeries.” He loves half truths. They make the overarching lie so much better. 

“Thanks, Highness.” The old man hauls himself back up on his horse. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“No, you won’t,” he murmurs when the man is out of sight. 

Ivy steps out from behind the beech tree. “You did well. It’s not easy to misdirect a man like him.” 

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at me,” Tim admits. “Like I’m a piece of meat to be devoured. Are you able to take care of him?” 

“Once he’s past the oak tree, he’s never coming back this way again.” 

“Good.”

A couple of days later, Ivy returns to inform him that the old adventurer is dead, his body torn to shreds and consumed by a thicket of brambles that puts his little pumpkin patch to shame. 

Tim shakes his head and sighs. “Too bad about the horse. That was a fine steed.” 

“Agreed.”

* * *

The first snow starts to fall a few weeks later. Tim watches it for a time before closing his shutters and barring them tightly. Glass is something he can only wish for out here, but he’s refitted each wooden frame so that it sits snugly in the window with barely a draft. When it truly gets cold outside, he has a thick, waxed cloth he can use to seal them completely. 

Winter will not catch him unprepared this year.

He’s just putting his feet up in front of the fire when he hears the distinct sound of his pumpkins causing a ruckus. They don’t die off like normal gourds, but actually go into a semi-hibernative state if they have a little assistance from someone who can partially bury them. 

Sighing, he puts his boots back on, double checks to make sure his quarterstaff is handy, and opens the front door a crack. Then he opens it wider and rushes out because that’s a person lying on the tilled ground of his garden. Just as that is most definitely blood causing his little pumpkins to go into a frenzy. 

There is so much blood. 

Tim whips his head around, trying and failing to determine if the danger is here or if these are wounds from somewhere else. The man is huge, and heavy, a fact that he discovers as he tries to move him. Fine armor protects his body, with two curious slits down the back that are clearly there on purpose, but as Tim rolls him over, he discovers the gouges where it’s been ripped nearly to shreds.

He lets out a low whistle because whatever did this is not a beast he wants to face on his own. Ivy hasn’t spoken of any creature like this in these parts though, so where did this guy come from? Enough snow has fallen that he should be seeing footprints, but there’s nothing. It’s like he just fell right out of the sky to land on top of Sage and Sparrow, both of whom are happily gnawing away on the man’s heavy leather gauntlets. Down by his feet, Bubbles is working on a boot. 

“Come on, guys. Stop being assholes and let him go. You’re supposed to be sleeping, not eating.” Tim grabs hold of the man’s helmet and carefully works it up and over his face to remove it. The features beneath are ruggedly handsome, even with the blood dripping from the knight’s nose. Black hair streaked white at his brow, but what catches Tim’s attention most are the delicately pointed tips to the man’s ears. 

There’s a Fae passed out in his garden. Or a half-Fae because unless he’s mistaken, Fae don’t pack quite the same amount of muscle as humans do. This guy is _stacked_. 

He’s also not breathing, which, last time Tim checked, is something of vital importance for both species. 

“Breathe for me, dammit,” he murmurs, arching the neck to make sure the airway remains open. Chest compressions are wishful thinking unless he can find a canopener to pry the man out of the remains of his armor. 

The man stirs, moaning ever so softly. 

“Come on, wake up,” Tim pleads, rescuing one gauntlet from Sparrow, who hisses loudly as it’s moved out of reach. “Things will be so much easier on both of us if you’re able to help me get you inside.”

Startling green eyes flicker briefly before he loses consciousness once more. 

Well, fuck. Looks like he’s on his own here. 

“Who are you?” Tim asks, grabbing hold of the man by the armpits and dragging him out of the pumpkin patch. Bubbles refuses to let go of the boot and is nearly uprooted before giving in. “I hope you don’t die on me. Because then I’d have to bury you and something tells me the kids would enjoy that a hell of a lot. The last thing I need is to wake up to Poppy finally figuring out how to get inside and eat me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Inappropriate bread humor ahead. :D

The Fae’s name, or at least the one he chooses to share with Tim when he finally wakes up two days later, is Jason.

He’s also kind of an asshole.

“Look, I didn’t build the cottage, I just live here,” Tim snaps as he checks the bandages he painstakingly wrapped about the man’s broad chest after stitching it up the other night. Tattoos line his back and shoulders, but with all the bruising, it’s difficult to make out what they are. “You’re also sleeping in my bed, which is perfectly fine for a man of my height.”

Jason’s feet stick out over the end, even when he’s propped up on all the pillows and cushions Tim possesses. Which aren’t many because hello, he’s been exiled to the damn woods to pine away over his true love. Maybe he’s supposed to make some? The Princess handbook is vague on that, but there’s a lot of embroidery going on.

The other man scrubs at his face with his free hand, the other splinted and wrapped tight. They’re pretty sure it’s a sprain, but better safe than sorry. “Sorry,” he replies in a begrudging tone. “I just have no idea where I am or how I even got here.”

“You’re in the Old Forest not too far from where it shares a border with the Kingdom of Bristol.”

“Ivy’s realm?”

Tim glances up. “You know her?”

“We’ve met a few times. She’s not bad when she isn’t trying to kill you.”

“She’s the one who gave me the pumpkins you landed in outside.”

“That’s just my luck.”

“Don’t worry, the kids were half-asleep, so they didn’t do more than gnaw on you before I got you out of there. Although, you might need to patch one of your boots. Bubbles has sharp teeth.”

Jason shakes his head and peers through the narrow slit in the shutters that Tim opened for him to look out. Beyond the cottage walls, it’s white. A good foot of snow had fallen the night he’d landed in the pumpkin patch. The drift on the backside of the cottage is significantly higher.

“So, what do you remember?” Tim prods when the other man is silent for a while. “When I found you, it’s like you just appeared out of nowhere. No tracks, no prints, nothing.”

Those brilliant eyes narrow as Jason thinks. Tim has never seen that color on a person before, so crisp and green like grass on a midsummer day.

“I was in Fae,” the man replies after a time. “Tracking a beast that I think you humans know as the Big Bad Wolf.”

“I’ve heard that name before. He blows down houses and eats virginal maidens who think wandering through the woods alone is a good idea.”

Jason snickers, then winces because of his bound ribs. “Oh, he does more than just that. Problem is, he’s effectively immortal, so killing him is out of the question. You can only incapacitate or distract him for a time. Annoying ass fucker.”

“I think he owes you a new set of armor,” Tim jokes. “The back doesn’t look too bad except for those long cuts, but the breastplate is toast.”

“The back is designed that way on purpose,” Jason explains without saying exactly why. “Besides, that wolf and I have gone at it so many times. He’s a tight-ass who wouldn’t know a good time if it sat up and bent over for him.”

“We have a word for that here.”

“Oh?”

“Frenemies.” 

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Jason snorts, then sobers as he changes topics. “Seriously though, I truly have no idea how I ended up in your garden. And from the looks of it, you’re stuck with me until I heal, or spring comes and you kick my sorry ass out. For that, I’m sorry.”

“Some company will be a nice change of pace,” Tim replies, reaching over for the bowl of soup he’d set on the small table beside the bed. “Last winter, I nearly froze my ass off, but this winter, I’m better prepared.”

He doesn’t insult the Fae by trying to feed him and instead holds the bowl steady so Jason can use the spoon himself with his good hand.

“Sounds like you’re not from around here?”

Tim shakes his head sourly. “No, I’m most definitely not.”

“Sore subject?”

“Just one that gets more ridiculous each time I tell it. Since you’ve been in these parts before, have you heard of the Drakes?”

“I have. They’re the human rulers of Bristol. Each generation of rulers is given some sort of Faerie blessing by the Three Idiots.”

Tim about chokes. “The three  _ what _ ?”

Jason smirks and damn, does that do all kinds of things to make his stomach knot up, even with the bruising and crusted blood still in his nose. “They’re young faeries, I think. Need to get some experience under their belts before they can grow up. There’s usually five or six of them though, one for each of the usual colors. They mean well but love to meddle in the human world.”

“Ugh, fuck my life,” Tim groans, hanging his head back. “I am in this goddamned position because of  _ children _ ?”

“I take it you’re a Drake then?”

“Timothy Drake, Crown Prince of Bristol. Cursed to sit out here in the woods because the Blue Faerie decided that I can only know pleasure with my true love.”

His guest picks up on the particular wording and laughs. “Oh man. He got you good. That is definitely not a blessing.”

“Nope. The sad thing is, I can go for hours as the Red Faerie blessed me with stamina. Apparently, she thought I’d need it to keep up with said true love.”

Jason really lets loose this time before the pain has him clutching his ribs. “I’m sorry, but that’s just fucking hilarious,” he wheezes. “Are you not able to cum or what?”

“Oh, I can cum,” Tim replies, moving the mostly empty bowl to give the man some space. “I just can’t stick my dick in anyone, and my partners can’t do the same to me.”

“That still leaves room for options,” Jason offers, wiping the corners of his eyes.

“Plenty.” Tim takes the spoon and pulls the blankets back up over the man. “But I think that’s enough for now. You need to rest.”

His unexpected guest settles back into the pillows. “I won’t argue with you about that.”

“Sounds like you will soon enough.”

“Probably.”

* * *

Jason is a fascinating person. Being. Fae. Tim isn’t sure of the correct term, but has a mental note to ask once his guest is feeling better. Over the next few days, he learns that Jason is half human and half Fae, which allows him to wander between the two worlds at will. In Fae, he’s known as the Red Knight, which, considering the vibrant shade of red that is his cloak, Tim can understand why. The tales he tells are riveting and help the long hours cooped up indoors pass by quickly. Curiously, he doesn’t venture much into the human world.

“Why?” Tim asks from the kitchen table where he’s kneading dough for bread.

“Because I have pointy ears and eyes that glow in the dark.”

“I noticed.” They’d scared the crap out of him the first time he’d seen them. Glowing green from across the room, he’d tripped on the hearth and nearly brain himself against the mantle. “You don’t need a torch to light the way, do you?”

“Not really, no.”

“Must come in handy.” Tim wishes he could see in the dark like that. Then again, if he could, he’d never sleep because he’d always have his nose stuck in a book.

“They’ve saved my ass a time or six.”

“What about the ears?”

The warrior runs a hand over the tip of one. “I can hear better than a human, but not as well as a full-blooded Fae.”

“I think they look neat.”

“You do?” There’s a hint of wonder in Jason’s voice.

Tim has some tact and refrains from stating he wants to lick them. So he finds the other man attractive. Big deal. He hasn’t had sex in over a year and a half. Maybe when Jason’s better, he’ll make an offer.

“I do,” he says instead. “They’re different.”

As time passes, it isn’t long before Jason makes an argument about getting out of bed to do something other than take a piss. His guest knows how to read, so Tim hands over the one book he’s certain will get a rise out of him.

The  _ Reginae Periculum. _

“How the fuck did you not toss this piece of trash into the fireplace where it belongs?” Jason asks after only a few minutes.

“Because it’s good for a laugh,” Tim replies, lowering his own book in favor of watching Jason as he reads.

“Chapter One: Miners and What to Do With Them. Chapter Two: Dwarves. See Previous Chapter. This thing reads like a badly written sex manual.”

“Just wait until you get to Chapter Six.”

Jason arches a brow. “Do I even want to know?”

“Wild Beasts and How to Tame Them.”

“Bloody hell.”

“There’s an appendix dedicated to wolves. Big Bad Wolf aside, they’re apparently very fond of young virgins who wander around the woods wearing red cloaks.” Tim cracks a grin. “I’ve heard them howling in the distance around here, so you had better be careful when you’re well enough to go outside. Wouldn’t want one of them to defile you on the way to the well.”

Jason throws one of the pillows at him. “I am hardly a blushing virgin.”

“Neither am I and yet, here I am, languishing away.”

“I bet you got put out here because of your smart mouth. Who’d you piss off? Your wicked stepmother?”

Tim huffs and slings the pillow right back at the bed. “More like the wicked Queen. I take after her entirely too much.”

“If you’re this bad, then thank the gods I never have to meet your mother.”

“You think I’m bad? Try listening to her tell you, in explicit detail over dinner, the tricks she apparently learned from the Faeries to help conceive me because the ones she’d picked up from the local brothel just weren’t working.” Tim shudders at the memory. His mother had been far too animated during the discussion, far more than he believed the very one-sided conversation warranted. “When I had a chance to process, I think it really came down to the fact that my father has an erectile dysfunction and she had to cope somehow.”

Jason’s jaw has dropped in abject horror. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“Way.”

“And you said you take after her?”

“A hell of a lot more than my father, that’s for sure. I can keep it up, for starters.”

“Great, I’m stuck in a cottage in the woods with the next evil overlord who’s pissed because he can’t even pay for a blowjob. Tell me, what’s your plan to take over the world?”

Grinning, Tim leans over, allowing the light from the fire and the candle on the nightstand to pick up the gleam in his blue eyes. “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?”

* * *

“How did you do that?” Tim asks in amazement as he ever so carefully pokes at the perfectly risen bread dough on his kitchen table. It’s full of bubbles and has risen to twice the size that he’s ever been able to accomplish.

Jason looks on with no small amount of pride, propped up on a makeshift crutch to help navigate the small confines of the cottage now that he’s on the mend and more mobile. He no longer has to wear the bandages and has taken to wearing the oddly cut tunic that was beneath his armor. It has the same two slits up the back as the ruined armor did, revealing those odd tattoos each time he turns around. Tim still hasn’t learned what they are, and the suspense is starting to eat at him.

“Patience.”

“I’m plenty patient.”

“No, I’ve seen how you treat your dough before. Think of it as a fine lady, one who needs a little gentle coaxing to rise to the occasion.”

“It’s bread, not a woman.”

“Well, what do you think the yeast is doing?”

“Making the bread rise?”

Jason smirks and carefully rounds the smaller of the two dough balls and sets it on top of the larger one. “The yeast is fucking, Tim. Over and over again, releasing little bubbles of gas each time it cums.”

Tim is more entranced by the way Jason flours his fingers and drives two of them straight down the center of the stacked dough. “What are you doing?” he asks, hitching his hips around on the other side of the table in a weak attempt to tell his cock to shut the fuck up and stop getting excited about  _ bread. _

“Binding the two together. If you don’t join them this way, the top loaf will fall off the bottom one and miss out on all the fun in the oven.”

There is no mistaking the double entendre. Or the gleefully evil expression on Jason's face, knowing exactly what he’s doing to his host because he is just that kind of asshole. Tim decides that discretion is the better part of valor and walks away, snagging his cloak as he marches right out the front door and into the cold.

This has been happening more often lately. Pent up sexual tension combined with his frustration makes for an explosive combination and rather than fuck it out like two rational adults, he marches outdoors to cool down his ardor. Since he’s not a glutton for punishment, he does not jerk off in the woods where he stomps around. It’s far too cold for whipping out his dick.

But oh, does he ever want to feel Jason’s hand around it, that wicked tongue lapping up and down the sides and swirling around the tip. He wants to remove each stitch of clothing from the proud warrior and rut against each other like two dogs in heat until they’re all but stuck together from their combined cum.

And then he wants to do it all over again.

Tim kicks a snow-covered boulder and growls. This isn’t helping. At all. Something has to be done and soon. His balls can’t take much more.

* * *

“Time for laundry again?” Jason asks, lowering his book as Tim brings in the laundry tub from the lean-to he’d built over the summer. “I haven’t bled through anything in the last three days.”

He’s put this off for as long as he can, but with two men living under one roof, there’s only so much they can do with a washcloth and a bar of soap. Tim sets it in front of the fire, the snow inside already starting to melt in the warmth of the cottage.

“Taking a bath, actually. I don’t know about you, but I’m overdue.”

If this isn’t enough to force one of their dumb asses make a move, Tim doesn’t know what will. He is absolutely certain he’s reading Jason right, that the man is interested, but between his injuries and the broken leg, it’s hard to gauge if he’s capable of acting on said interest.

Ready or not though, he’s taking his bath.

Jason is silent as Tim prepares the water, testing it a few times to adjust it to his liking. Before he strips down, he takes the large kettle he’s been using to melt snow and opens the front door of the cottage, dragging it through the drift to refill it. Back inside, he places it over the fire.

In the final step, he finds the length of rope he’s used in the past as an indoor clothesline and strings it up, effectively dividing the cottage in half with the bed on one side and the fireplace on the other.

“Need some privacy?” Jason asks, his already deep voice dropping a hair lower than normal. In the firelight, his eyes shine like the most brilliant of emeralds.

Tim goes for a nonchalant shrug as he unlaces his shirt and pulls it over his head. “If it doesn’t bother you, then it doesn’t bother me.”

“It’s fine.” Jason picks up his book again, but Tim can feel his eyes on him as he turns and removes his trousers. “Do you think you can help me with a bath after you’re done?”

“Sure,” he replies, kneeling beside the large basin with his damp washcloth to do a quick wipe down. “Let me see how dirty this gets and I’ll refill it.”

Stepping into the basin, he sits down, then leans back, draping his legs and arms over the side. It’s no palace bathtub by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s  _ warm _ and there is definitely something to be said about sitting in a tub full of hot water and listening to the crackle and pop of a fire.  He can almost ignore the fact that Jason is watching his every move, his book abandoned on his lap. It’s empowering, knowing that such a simple little thing like a bath is turning on the half Fae warrior behind him.

Sooner than he’d like, Tim sits up and scoops water into his hands to wet his hair for washing. The water feels so good pouring over his head and shoulders. This is something he misses most living out here in the woods. Back home, he’d have the space to fully submerge himself, to wash properly.

“Need a hand?” Jason asks, his voice much closer than Tim expects.

Looking over his shoulder, he finds the man standing over him, his weight balanced on his good leg while his crutch provides some relief for the other.

“Can you even get down here?” Tim asks.

“Yeah, but you’ll have to help me back up.”

“I can do that.”

Slowly, carefully, Jason settles on the floor beside the basin. Tim shifts around so that his back is to him and hands over the soap. More gently than he expects, the man washes his hair, dragging his fingers through the soapy strands and massaging his scalp.

Tim can’t help moaning softly. “That feels so damn good.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

The hands work their way out of his hair and over the back of his neck, trailing across his shoulders and down until the edge of the tub prevents them from going any further.

“Rinse,” Jason orders quietly.

There is no graceful way to do this. Tim slides his ass across the bottom of the tub until it hits the far end. He has just enough space that he can rinse his hair off if he arches his back to duck his head into the water.

Above him, he hears Jason’s choked breath and he realizes he’s giving the man quite the show as there is nothing concealing his cock from that viridian gaze.

Good.

Tim runs his fingers through his hair as best he can, then sits up, throwing his hips forward to roll right into a standing position.

Water drips down his body as he steps out of the tub.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Jason breathes.

Looking over his shoulder, Tim smirks. There’s no mistaking the growing bulge in Jason’s trousers as anything other than what it is—a very large cock. “Need a hand?” he asks, leaving the question just open-ended enough to give the man an out if he wants it.

“If you try and move me right now, I’m pretty sure that will end in my complete and utter embarrassment.”

“Can’t have that now, can we?” Tim steps around the tub, planting his feet on either side of Jason’s muscular thighs.

Jason gently palms the back of his calves and works his way higher, fingers splayed wide as he touches every bit of skin he can reach. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Says the one who can actually have sex with another person. I just make do with what I can get.” Tim cups his balls and gives them a squeeze.

Pressing his face into the juncture of Tim’s thigh, Jason reaches around and lightly smacks his ass. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment I opened my eyes.”

He arches into the touch. “I’ve just been waiting for you to be well enough to give it a try.”

Wicked green eyes stare up at him over the planes of his lean torso, lips curling into a matching smirk a hairsbreadth from his cock. Tim  _ wants _ so much in that moment, more so than he can ever remember before. A hand drops to Jason’s hair, tugging on the ends.

“Oh, I think I’m ready.” Jason’s hand grips the base of his cock, firm enough that Tim isn’t going anywhere, not that he wants to.

His tongue darts out, tracing the thick vein running the length, up, then back down.

Fuck. Yes. Tim throws his head back as Jason licks and sucks at him, his warm hand still gripping his ass tightly. It really has been too long since anyone has touched him, but there’s more to it than that, some sensation stirring low in his loins that has been absent with every other sexual encounter he’s ever had. The thought is tantalizing, teasing him just as much as Jason is.

But braining is hard when there’s a mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, taking it deeper and deeper—

“Holy  _ shiiiiit _ ,” Tim stutters as his brain catches up.

Hand tightening in Jason’s hair, he rocks his hips, entranced by the sight of his cock fucking  _ in _ and  _ out _ of the sweet, perfect mouth of his true love.

That’s all it takes before he’s cumming, shooting off harder than he ever has before, filling Jason’s mouth and hitting the back of his throat.

Jason draws away as much as Tim’s hold allows him to, tilting his head back and looking up at him like some kind of fallen angel. He swallows pointedly and smirks. “I thought you said you couldn’t do that."

“I can’t. I couldn’t.” Chest heaving, he traces a thumb over Jason’s lips, plump and swollen from the  _ blowjob _ he’d just received. There’s a smear of cum at the corner of his mouth and Tim collects it, pushing the tip of his thumb between those lips and groaning as Jason licks it clean.

It quickly becomes clear when Jason clues in to the implications of what just happened. Brows shooting up to his hairline, he stares up at him. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Tim shakes his head. “Nope.”

“You’re sure?”

He nods. “I’ve never been able to do this before. With anyone. The gods know my partners and I have tried.” Now is not the time to tell the turkey baster story.

“Well, fuck.”

"Oh, that's going to happen. Soon and repeatedly." Tim licks his lips, reverential and hungry while trying not to be creepy. Which is hard because Jason still has his hand on his ass, fingertips along the cleft.

“Thirsty, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea. There’s a reason I called this part of my life the  _ Age of Extreme Frustration. _ ”

“I still think your mother played a big part in that.”

“Yeah, she did. Now can we not talk about my mother when I’m about to have actual sex for the first time?”

Jason rolls his eyes and releases him, lying back on the floor. “Get it out of your system, then we can talk.”

Tim frowns. “I’m not that desperate.” It’s a lie, he totally is, but he isn’t about to force a partner if this isn’t something he wants to do.

But Jason is already loosening the laces on his trousers. “Tim, it’s been nearly twenty-five years since I’ve had sex. You’re not the only one who’s horny here.”

Say what? Twenty-five years? That’s...That’s not something he wants to think about right now.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“You heard me. Now get down here and put that mouth to good use.”


	4. Chapter 4

It isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement to the start of their relationship, but Tim can appreciate where Jason is coming from here. He’s the one who was somehow magically uprooted, avoiding certain death, to land in the pumpkin patch of his true love in the human world. It’s a lot to process. He gets it. 

He’s just glad that Jason is apparently a multitasker who can contemplate massive upheavals like this with Tim’s legs wrapped around his waist while bouncing on his dick. There is no mistaking that he’s into it—literally—as he grunts and groans Tim’s name, spilling inside him as he cums for the third time that afternoon. 

Tim looks back over at the laundry tub that started it all and wonders if now is a good time to take another bath. They’re covered in each other’s fluids and reeking of sex. Jason still hasn’t had his and that should really happen before it grows any darker outside.

Reluctantly, he slides off Jason’s cock, relishing in the feel of cum dripping down the inside of his thighs. It’s not an entirely foreign sensation, but the place of origin certainly is.

The bedsheets are a mess. It’s a good thing he has another set because as much as he enjoys finally having the opportunity to truly fuck another person, he hates sleeping in the wet spot. 

“You’re insatiable,” Jason murmurs, leaning forward from his pillow nest to capture Tim’s lips. 

“That implies I’m up for another round,” Tim replies, kissing his _true love_ with every ounce of his being. Jason is intoxicating and as much as he could easily fall into round four, he tears himself away and hops off the bed. 

His legs buckle and it’s only by staggering the few steps to the kitchen table that he’s able to stay upright. 

From the bed, Jason snickers. “A reaction like that, I can tell you’ve never had a dick up your ass.”

Tim flips him off with a free hand, willing his legs to stop wobbling like jelly. “You had no complaints about mine up yours.” 

“Yeah, but I’ve also done this before.” Jason sits up and swings his good leg to the floor, his faerie wings vibrating now that they’re no longer crushed against the bed. The shimmering red and gold catch the light and all but glow. 

Apparently, those are the reason why Jason’s shirt and armor are designed the way they are. His tattoos are _wings_ , ones that are mostly under his control until that’s suddenly stripped away in times of duress or, as the case so happened to be here, when he’s having sex.

“That’s so not fair.” Tim stumbles his way toward the laundry tub and collapses to his knees in front of it. The water has cooled, but it’s still wet and he uses it liberally to rinse off.

“I’m not the one who had a run in with the Blue Faerie.”

“I was four hours old! Like I had a choice in the matter!” 

It takes a while to clean up after their activities and by the time Tim is done hanging the freshly laundered sheets, Jason has finished preparing dinner. He can’t help but notice the quality of his meals has increased since the half Fae landed in his garden a few weeks ago. 

Has it really been so short a time? It feels like he’s known Jason forever already, the missing piece to the puzzle he’s spent all his life trying to solve. 

Tugging on a sheet to make sure it dries evenly, Tim supposes that’s true. But what of Jason? He’s the one who didn’t even know he was destined to have a true love until he swallowed the tip of his cock earlier. What are his thoughts on all this?

“Dinner’s ready,” Jason calls out, taking a seat on the rude bench along one side of the table. His splinted leg juts out awkwardly and Tim has to take a large step to avoid tripping.

They eat in silence, the only noise coming from the crackle of the fireplace and the occasional buzz from Jason’s wings. After having been contained for so long, they don’t appear to be disappearing anytime soon.

“So,” Jason starts, picking at the crust of his leftover bread. “I’m not sure where to go from here.” 

Tim nods. “The sex is great, but we don’t really know each other, despite what my heart is trying to tell me. Considering that we’re stuck here until spring, there’s plenty of time to work on that.” 

The tension running through Jason’s shoulders relaxes a hair. “Good. Good.” He bobs his head in agreement, but there seems to be something else he wants to say. After a moment, he says, “This has all come at me really damned fast. I need time to think.” 

“That’s fair. I’m the one who grew up knowing there was a true love out there for me. You didn’t.”

“There’s more to it than that.” Jason sighs and rips the crust in half. He’s still not looking at him. 

“You’re already married?” Tim tries to inject some humor into the conversation. 

Jason cracks a smile and finally glances up at him. “No, I’m not.”

“Engaged?” 

“Nope.” 

“Then what?” 

“You’re a damned prince. And I’m…” Jason trails off, apparently finding the grooves on the table more fascinating than continuing the conversation.

Tim waits him out. He’s learned this skill from his mother. Never crack first. 

“Well, I’m a lot of things, but I have a home too, in Fae. There are people I’m responsible for; I can’t just pack up and leave them. I have responsibilities.”

And there’s the other shoe, finally dropping. It hasn’t even occurred to Tim that he and his true love would live anywhere other than his castle. In his mind, everything that happens after finding them just fell into the category titled _Happily Ever After_. 

Shit. He of all people should know it doesn’t happen like that. 

“We have time to figure it out,” Tim says in a quiet voice. “You’re going to be in the splint for a while still, and the snow will just keep piling up outside until one day, it doesn’t.” 

Jason meets his eyes and gives a firm nod. “You’re right. We’ve got time.”

* * *

As easy as it would be to say they spend the rest of the winter doing nothing but having crazy, wild sex over every open space in the cottage, they don’t. Well, they do, but they also spend a lot of time talking because even with their inhuman stamina, they need to take a break and recharge. 

Tim learns about Fae and the political climate there with Jason’s arm wrapped around him as they share the narrow space on the bed. Politics are his lifeblood and he asks more questions than Jason is able to answer. 

“Fuck it, we’re going to have to figure out a schedule where you spend a few months with me in Fae because there is no way in hell I can explain to you why the Snow Queen and the King of the Winds bang each other as often as they do, even if they’re on opposing sides.” 

The thought of living in Fae, even for a brief time, excites Tim more than it should.

“How would that even work?” he asks. “I’ve heard the time change can be a bit rough.”

Jason frowns, the hand that’s been tracing lazy patterns in Tim’s skin stopping. “I’ve heard there are ways, but have never checked them out before. Never thought I’d need to.”

Tim nods, understanding. “It’s just now that I’ve found you, I’m supposed to go home and resume my responsibilities there. My father is a frivolous fop, so my mother is the real power behind the throne. I have my own duties, which she had to resume when I was sent here.”

“Responsibility is a bitch, isn’t it?”

“And never mentioned in the _happily ever after_ , I might add.”

“Because that doesn’t make for a good story,” Jason snorts, his eye roll clearly showing his opinion on that. “I don’t have a kingdom to look after, but it’s a decent sized holding. The beings who live there are used to me not always being around, so they figure the small things out for themselves. But I’m their protector.”

“Because Fae is not for the weak of heart,” Tim repeats, having heard Jason say that before. “I’m a knight in my own right; I earned my spurs and have fought to defend my home. But is that enough?"

Jason presses a kiss against his hair. “We’ll find out. When this cast comes off, I’d like to spar with you.”

“I’d like that.”

* * *

They also get around to a discussion that’s been preying on his mind since that wonderful afternoon Jason gave him his first blowjob.

“How old are you, exactly?” 

Jason looks up from the kitchen table where he’s peeling carrots. “Time passes differently in Fae, so I’m not really sure. There are seasons where I live which sort of mirror those of this world.” 

Tim remembers that, but presses on. “You said that it’s been nearly twenty-five years since the last time you had sex. Guess who’s going to be twenty-five this summer?” 

It clicks and Jason lowers the knife. “That little shit.”

“You’ve been cockblocked for the entire time I’ve been alive, and you didn’t even know it.” Now that’s hilarious.

“I swear to the gods, the next time I cross paths with those idiots, that dick won’t have wings when I’m done with him.” Jason’s own wings flutter in agitation. He’s been leaving them out, mostly because Tim likes to trace the delicate webbing and cartilage as he drifts off to sleep. It’s very soothing. 

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Obviously, I’m older than you.” 

“Clearly. But you don’t look that much older.” 

“If I had to guess, I’d say around a hundred and fifty?” Jason shrugs and adjusts his crutch. He’s getting very close to when the splint will come off. 

Tim frowns as a thought occurs to him. His true love has a much longer life span because of his bloodline than he will. When he dies, Jason will be left alone. 

Like Ivy. 

Jason seems to pick up on the course his thoughts have taken and throws the end of a carrot at him. “Stop thinking about it. There’s nothing we can do about it right now. Besides, you’re the one who’s been gifted with intelligence, remember? If there’s one of us who can figure it out, it’ll be you.” 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m no mage.” 

“Yeah, but I am. All you need to learn are the theories and I can take care of the rest.” 

“When you put it that way, it sounds easy.”

“Of the two of us, you’re the evil overlord. This is my way of being able to support you when you take over the world.”

* * *

The coldest part of the winter sets in and even though the days are getting longer, which means warmer days are coming, Tim can’t convince his balls of that each time he has to step outside. They retreat so far into his body he swears he’s been emasculated whenever he returns to the cottage.

Jason finds this hilarious and takes far too much pleasure in coaxing them back out where they belong. 

Tim feels like one of those foreign princes from the tales, lounging in a nest of pillows and furs while his lover worships every inch of his body. The fire crackles merrily as Jason slowly licks and sucks between his legs. When he cums, his cock is untouched, lending even more credence to the story running through his head.

This is something he could get used to. 

But on the heels of that thought comes another, a question he still hasn’t received an answer to. Softly, he strokes Jason’s hair before tugging lightly, signaling that he wants him to move higher. 

The strong warrior cages him with his body, pressing lazy kisses into Tim’s ever eager mouth. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, tracing the side of his jaw. 

“It’s occurred to me that it’s been awhile since I asked about your thoughts on having a true love,” Tim answers, reaching up to rub at the tip of a sensitive ear. The action never fails to drag a purr from his lover’s throat. “What do you think?” 

Jason takes hold of his hand and presses a kiss to the soft inner skin of his wrist. “I have long since learned that there’s no fighting the destiny the Fates spin for you. Every action you take, every move, every thought, they see it. So I just roll with the punches, even if I don’t like them.” 

“That’s not exactly an answer that gives me the warm fuzzies.” It does the opposite in fact. 

“I know. Let me put it this way. I do like you. I think you’re smarter than you have any right to be, you’ve got a sass factor of twenty on a scale of one to ten, and you are incredible in bed. I enjoy spending time with you—that includes our arguments—and I’m glad that we’ve had this chance to get to know each other before the world comes barging in around us. Because it’s going to, that’s for damned sure.” Jason laps at the skin over Tim’s collarbone and rests a hand over his heart. 

“I sense a but.” 

“But never in my wildest dreams have I ever thought there could be a true love out there for a guy like me. And now, here we are.” 

“Here we are,” Tim echoes, understanding the point Jason is trying to make. “I’ve had my entire life to come to terms with the fact while you’ve only had a couple of months.”

Jason nods. “Exactly. So you’ll forgive me if I’m not spouting platitudes about how I think the sun shines out your ass and that you shit rainbows.” 

“Just as long as you don’t actively dislike me, I’m okay with this. I’d hate to be the one to trap you into something you don’t want.”

“You’re fine,” Jason is quick to reassure him. He drops his hips and presses his straining cock against Tim’s stomach, thrusting lightly to smear Tim’s earlier release around. Sometimes, Tim swears he just likes to make a mess. “More than fine.”

Smacking his lover, he spreads his knees wider. “Just shut up and fuck me already.” 

“As you wish.”

* * *

They finally decide on living arrangements by the time the snow starts to melt, which ends the most vocal series of arguments between them to date. Tim loves a heated discussion and it’s clear Jason feels passionately about them too, which is why he has no problem when the larger man presses him against the wall and fucks him mercilessly until they’re both shouting for entirely different reasons.

He has never felt more alive in his life. 

Outside, the crocus starts to bloom and, judging from the periodic snaps he hears from the garden, the kids are waking up. Over the last year, he’s come to care for the little gourds and has concerns about leaving them.

“Ivy will be awake soon,” he tells Jason one afternoon as they take a walk through the newly budded forest. The man still needs a cane for support as he rebuilds the strength in his leg.

“She’s not going to draw and quarter me for taking you away, is she?” 

Tim glances over his shoulder and grins. “Whatever you do, don’t take the left fork at the oak tree.” 

Jason groans. “Do I even want to know?” 

“Man-eating brambles.”

“Noted.”

* * *

When Ivy does appear at the cottage one fine spring evening, Tim is tossing fish heads to the owl. They’d resumed a somewhat uneasy friendship over the winter, one laced with the knowledge that the kids would wake up eventually and steal all his food. 

“You spoil him,” Ivy announces, stepping out from around the beech tree. 

“He’s a dick.”

“He’s an owl.” 

Tim shrugs and tosses the last one, then wipes his hands on his trousers. Laundry day is tomorrow, so he doesn’t care. “Did you have a nice nap?” he asks instead. 

“I did.” Ivy prowls closer, alert as she listens with senses that he can only dream of. “You have a guest. One that has been here for a while.”

“Funny story about that.” Tim ducks his head and sighs before looking back up at his friend. “My true love appeared out of nowhere during the first snow.” 

“People don’t just appear out of nowhere, Tim. They all have to come from somewhere.”

“Well, he did come from Fae.”

Ivy’s brows disappear up into her red hair. “Your true love is a Fae?” 

“Half Fae.” Tim turns and calls over his shoulder. “Jason! Come here!” 

There is no reply, but Jason isn’t exactly the type to shout when he doesn’t have to. A moment later, the large man appears on the doorstep, wiping his hands on a towel. Behind him, his wings shimmer in the last light of day.

“I know you,” Ivy states, prowling around Tim toward the cottage. “You’re the hunter who helped me track down the fiend that killed my true love.” 

Jason nods in acknowledgement, idly shoving Poppy away with the toe of his boot as the little pumpkin tries to sneak into the cottage again. “It’s been awhile, Ivy.” 

“I never did get your name,” she replies. “And now here you are, with a true love of your own.” 

“I didn’t exactly plan it that way.” 

“We never do.” Ivy smiles and turns her attention back on Tim. “You will be leaving soon, then?” 

“As soon as I can get a message out that I need horses,” he replies. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up first. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. There’s also the kids too.” He gestures to the little gourds that are all snapping happily in Ivy’s presence. 

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?” Ivy asks. “You’re the most tolerable neighbor I’ve had in an age.” 

Jason comes up from behind and drapes an easy arm over Tim’s shoulder. “You are a prince, right? Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to have a vacation home somewhere?” 

He does. A much more upscale lodge with running water and an actual bathing chamber in a forest that doesn’t have rodent-eating pumpkins or man-eating brambles. But given a choice between that place and this one, Tim knows which one he prefers. 

“Yeah, it does.”

* * *

Tim sends a message with the assistance of Ivy and a pigeon she spends a long time talking to. As he watches it fly away, he knows the peaceful days here are numbered. This knowledge carries mixed feelings. All he has to do is just disappear with Jason into Fae and no one here would ever be the wiser. No more responsibilities, no more nagging mother. But that also means no more friends like Kon and Stephanie. 

For the first time in months, he spends more than a passing thought on them. Their child would have been born in the fall, a new Prince or Princess of Kandor. It hurts, but not as much as it did the previous spring when the news arrived. 

He has his true love now. 

But it does bring up another thought.

“What are your feelings on children?” Tim asks, more than a bit breathlessly as he fucks into Jason’s tight hole. His long legs are wrapped around his waist, holding him in place as Jason stretches out over the kitchen table. The remains of their lunch have been shoved aside in favor of more pleasurable distractions.

“You’re asking me this now?” 

Tim digs his fingers into Jason’s hips and adjusts his angle. Beneath him, Jason hisses as he hits his sweet spot. “It just came to me.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I don’t have that kind of equipment.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Jason reaches out and grips the far end of the table, arching his back as he puts himself on full display for Tim. Fuck, but he loves it when he does this. His body is a roadmap of muscle and scars, all carefully explored and engraved in Tim’s memory over the course of the winter. 

He reaches out and tweaks a nipple, which has Jason clamping down even harder around his cock. His question is forgotten in favor of far more interesting activities. 

They’re too lost in each other to notice the presence of another person until the door swings open. 

“Tiiiim!” shouts Kon in a ringing voice. “Where are you? We’re here to…” he trails off, clearly taking in the scene before him. “Holy shit, you’re actually fucking someone.” 

Stiffening, Tim stops doing just that, mortified in a way he hasn’t been since the time he met Stephanie with cum drying in his hair. “Kon,” he growls warningly. “Get out.” 

“You sure?” 

“Kon, will you move your ass?” comes another all too familiar voice and Tim wants to die. “Where’s… Oh. Well, it’s about damned time.” 

Beneath him, Jason is shaking as he tries to suppress his laughter, which also has him clenching around Tim’s raging boner that refuses to go down even with the peanut gallery staring at them. With the way they’re angled, Kon and Stephanie can’t see much of him, just Tim and his ass out for the world to see. 

_“OUT!”_ he roars.

Under other circumstances, the sound of his friends laughing would be music to his ears. Right now, he’s a bundle of embarrassment and only the tight grip on his cock keeps him from losing all hope of finishing.

“Your ex-boyfriend and ex-wife?” Jason asks, snickering when they’re somewhat alone again. The shutters are wide open, so unless Kon and Steph exercise some tact, they’re still getting a show. They’re both complete and utter perverts, so of course they’re watching.

“Yes.” 

“Awkward.” 

Tim takes a deep breath and thrusts into Jason’s depths again. “Not really.”

“Why’s that?” Jason asks in a punched out voice.

“I was never able to do this with either of them.” With that, he cums hard, filling his lover to the brim. 

“ _Fuuuuck_.” Jason twitches hard and it only takes a few firm strokes to finish him off, streaks of white shooting up to land on his chest. 

Pulling out is the last thing Tim wants to do, but he has to face the music sooner or later. “So much for cleaning you up,” he comments wistfully, dragging his thumb over Jason’s sloppy hole. 

“You’ll have another chance. Now get your ass outside while I make myself pretty.” 

Tim catches Jason as he sits up and captures his lips fiercely. “You’re always pretty.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere. Now go.”

Snickering, he looks around for his clothes and gets dressed, taking a brief moment to wash in the basin and set himself to rights. Then, taking a deep breath, Tim heads outside.

His friends are waiting near their horses, grinning like the assholes they are. Both are a little travelworn, but in his eyes, they couldn’t be more perfect. 

Stephanie rushes forward and wraps her arms around him in one of her rib-crushing hugs. “You finally found him!” she cries out. “Or he found you, or whatever.” She draws back and there are tears in her cornflower blue eyes. “You can come home now.”

Kon is right there beside them, enveloping them both. “We’ve missed you so much, man. You have no idea.” His eyes too are shiny with tears. 

There’s nothing Tim can say, so he doesn’t and just holds the two people dearest to him, letting their words wash over him, soothing wounds he hadn’t realized were still open and raw. “I missed you guys too,” he manages to choke out.

“There’s so much to catch you up on,” Kon says, pressing his lips to Tim’s hair. “I swear, if we hadn’t been visiting your mother when that pigeon arrived, she’d have been the one to come out here to drag your ass home.”

Tim snorts at the thought. “Why were you in Bristol?”

“It was Kara’s first state visit.”

“Kara?”

Steph stiffens in his arms. “Our daughter,” she replies, clearly not wanting to continue if he gives any sign of discomfort. 

He can’t blame her, not after all the years they spent trying to figure out a way around his curse. The pain is still there, but time and Jason have dulled the edge.

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Tim makes sure his voice is warm and embraces his friends even more tightly. “Where is she?”

“We left her with your mother,” Kon answers.

Tim rears back, or tries to because Kon is using his TTK to keep him still, dammit. “Are you fucking insane? My mother is practically an evil queen! All she’s missing is a cauldron and a crown that lights on fire or some shit like that.”

“Oh, come on, she’s not that bad.”

“Did you forget the number of times she walked in on us having sex? I haven’t!” It’s like she had a sixth sense for it. Come to think of it, she’s probably going to do the same thing to him and Jason too.

Goddammit. 

Behind him, Jason clears his throat. “Am I interrupting?” 

“Yes, but that’s okay.” Tim presses his forehead to Stephanie’s and steps back, Kon releasing them both as he does. “They were just about to tell me why they thought leaving their daughter with my mother was a good idea.”

“All your stories about her make that sound like a bad idea.”

“I know!” 

“Queen Janet adores me,” Steph starts to explain before gasping as she takes in the sight of Tim’s true love.

With the arrival of spring, Jason had made some changes to his clothes, saying he prefers the freedom of movement and the warmth of the sun against his skin. Completely nixing his undershirt, the sleeves on the tunic disappeared, which somehow managed to emphasize his broad shoulders while leaving his heavily muscled arms bare. His red and gold wings shine in the sunlight, so fine and delicate compared to the rest of his sturdy frame. 

“You’re a Fae!” 

“Half,” Jason replies and holds out his hand. “You must be Stephanie.”

Ignoring the outstretched hand, the golden-haired princess marches right up to the much taller man and shakes her finger at him. “True love or not, if you make Tim unhappy or upset, you’ll be answering to me, mister,” she says with a fire in her eyes that Tim recognizes all too well. “He’s waited all his life for you and let me tell you—” 

Kon and Tim both reach out and drag her away before she really gets going. 

“Oh, come on! Kon, you lost the coin toss. I get to give the shovel talk!” 

“I swear you cheated.” 

“I did not!” Steph squawks, whirling on her husband. “You gave me the coin.” 

“You still cheated!” 

“If you wanted to win so badly, then why didn’t you use your TTK, hmm?”

Kon is outmatched, clearly knows it, but is still hanging on. “Because that’s cheating! Which you did!”

“It’s only cheating if you get caught.”

Tim snickers at that. Steph has always been a notorious cheat with cards and dice, so why would a coin toss be any different? He’d learned all his best tricks from her, a feat Kon apparently hasn’t mastered yet. 

Jason wraps his arms around Tim and rests his chin on top of his head as they watch his friends bicker. “Are they always like this?” he asks in a quiet voice. 

“Oh, no,” Tim replies, relaxing into the warm embrace of his true love. “They’re usually louder.”


	5. Epilogue

_A few years later…_

“Do you think they’re coming?” 

“They have to. It’s tradition.” Tim reclines in his and Jason’s bed, pillows propped up behind him and their newborn daughter asleep in his arms. Outside the cottage window, the shadows are long as the sun sets on one of the most tumultuous days of his life. He’s exhausted and he didn’t do much more than catch Cassandra when the massive cabbage spat her out. 

Which is also an event that currently tops his now extremely long _what the fuck_ list. It’s always been a big list, but ever since he met Jason, it just keeps growing. 

He places his lips against the crown of his daughter’s head, marveling at her tiny perfection. Ten fingers and ten toes all where they’re supposed to be. No wings, but Jason said he hadn’t sprouted his until puberty so there’s still a chance. They’re both enamored over her delicately pointed ears, so much like her father’s. 

They owe Ivy big time for this. Her magic made it all possible. 

A child with two fathers, born of a magical cabbage that took root in the spring and revealed its precious bounty at the end of harvest. He and Jason have sworn never to reveal just how much sex they had in the garden. Ivy had said their seed needed to take root, which Tim supposes is still better than sticking his dick in an actual cabbage. 

Cassandra stirs in Tim’s arms and he coos quietly, making sure the bottle of goat’s milk is at hand in case she’s hungry. 

Jason takes note and strokes a finger over her petal soft cheek. “Maybe I should go milk the goat again.” 

“You’ve milked her three times today. I think she needs a rest too.” 

“Yeah, but until Steph gets here, she’s all we got.” 

“Who was supposed to make sure we had everything ready?” 

“You. But then your mom got her nose bent out of joint because Steph said she would be our wet-nurse and you had to play peacemaker. Seriously, what does being a princess have to do with anything? Boobs are boobs and if she’s willing, then what is the big deal?” 

Tim shrugs. “We’ve been married for almost five years. I’d think you would be used to Mother’s quirks by now.” 

“I still think the look on your mom’s face when Steph announced that they were her tits and she’d do what she wants with them needs to be engraved or something.” 

“It was rather hilarious, wasn’t it?” Tim smiles at the memory. The Queen Mother has some _opinions_ on what is and isn’t appropriate and constantly battles against the next generation and their new-fangled ideas. 

He doesn’t see the issue. Stephanie gave birth to her second child, a son she and Kon named Jon, just months before and insisted that she’ll be the wet nurse for Cassandra when the time came. Jason is still of the opinion that Steph got pregnant on purpose just to have the opportunity to live in Bristol for the winter. Kandor, placed as it is in the mountains, is much colder, even if the palace is well-insulated and maintained. 

Personally, Tim believes she wants this chance to give back, to be part of the family the two of them were never able to have. He won’t begrudge her this, even if his mother has loudly stated that it’s beneath a princess’s station to perform such duties. His counterargument that most women weren’t exactly keen to nurse a baby born from a cabbage patch finally shut her up because even Janet couldn’t disagree with that fact. 

“So that’s a no go on the milk then?” Jason asks, drawing Tim from his thoughts. 

“If you need to find something to distract yourself, then knock yourself out. You could always start dinner.” 

His husband made a face. “And skip my hour to cuddle our daughter? Nice try.” 

They’ve been taking turns and swapping out every hour, although they did agree that when the Three Idiots finally arrive that Tim will be doing the holding. A certain Blue Faerie has a better chance to be caught by a half-Fae than a full human. 

Tim glances outside. Twilight has fallen on the cottage, the only sounds coming from the stirring of the pumpkins as they settle in for the night, quietly snapping and bickering amongst themselves. The owl hoots softly and another one answers. He’s gotten a lot less crotchety since finding a mate, too busy raising his own young to care about the gourds in the garden below. 

He had made a special point of relocating some of the pumpkins away from the beech tree. Little owlets did not need to be concerned about magical gourds at this point in their lives. 

In the distance, a wolf howls and they both look out the open window, startled. 

“I’ve never heard a wolf howl this close to the cottage before,” Tim says with some concern. 

“Neither have I.” Jason smoothly glides to his feet and leans out the window, listening intently. His ears can pick up a mouse’s fart if he bothers to concentrate enough. 

The howl comes again, this time a little closer. 

“Fuck.” 

“What is it?” Tim holds Cassandra closer at the vehemence in Jason’s statement. 

“That gods-be-damned wolf has somehow gotten out of Fae.” 

“You mean the Big Bad Wolf is _here?_ ” 

“That’s exactly what I mean.” Jason is already moving, grabbing his sword from its place beside their bed. 

A chill travels down Tim’s spine and he springs from the bed. “I take it that getting the horses is pointless?” 

“Yup.” Jason opens a cupboard and yanks on his chest plate. “I want you and the baby to go down to the cellar. I’ll grab the goat and shove her down there too.” 

“Jay, don’t go looking for a fight,” Tim warns, taking hold of his husband’s arm. “Not today.” 

There’s a pained look in Jason’s eyes. “I’m not, but I’ll be damned three times over if I don’t do everything I can to protect you two.” 

He punctuates the statement with a soul-stealing kiss that has heat replacing the ice running through Tim’s veins. 

“I love you,” Tim says. 

“With all my heart,” Jason finishes. “Now go. I’ll get the goat.” 

He vanishes out the backdoor and Tim races around the cottage, grabbing everything he might need for Cassandra. It’s difficult with juggling a baby in one arm, but he manages, putting her down only long enough to haul open the trap door for the cellar beside the hearthstone. 

There’s another howl in the distance and even he can’t deny that it’s getting closer. 

Fuck. 

Tim grabs hold of Cassandra, two rucksacks with baby supplies, and a waterskin for himself and races down the stairs. Never before has he been so glad to have replaced the damn ladder than used to be here with a sturdier staircase. It’s completely dark down here and he curses when he realizes he has to find the lantern. He places his daughter in the turnip bin, securing her with a swaddling cloth, and starts looking around. 

From above, there’s a quiet bleat from the goat as Jason manhandles her inside. 

“Jay, I need a taper for the lantern!” Tim calls out. 

Instead of a reply, three small mage lights tumble down the stairs, closely followed by the goat. 

“Those will last for as long as I’m breathing.” Jason kneels on the floor above while Tim struggles to yank the goat down the stairs. 

“Don’t get morbid on me.” 

“I’m being practical.” 

“That’s.” _Tug._ “Supposed.” _Tug._ “To be.” _Tug._ “Me.” 

Jason gives him a fond smile as he rises to his feet, raising the trap door as he goes. “Make sure to show that goat who’s boss. Set a good example for Cassandra.” 

The door closes overhead, and tears sting at the corner of Tim’s eyes. This is supposed to be one of the happiest days of his _life_ and here he is stuck in a root cellar with his newborn daughter while his husband goes out to defend them from a creature that has, on multiple occasions, nearly killed him. He should be out there with him, shoulder to shoulder, not stuck down here like some milksop from the fairytales.

But if Jason falls, then who else will defend the precious new life they'd created together?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _FUCK._ ” He’s past caring about setting a good example for Cassandra. Besides, she’s far too young to realize he’s on the verge of a complete and utter meltdown. 

Dealing with the goat gives him something to focus on, but it doesn’t take all that long to corral her into a corner thanks to the help of some carrots. 

Tim collapses in front of the vegetable bins, all full to bursting from the bounteous garden hyped up on Ivy’s magic. A spare wagon just for the produce is supposed to be accompanying Steph and Kon so that none of it goes to waste. The thought flickers idly in his mind, followed quickly by the fact that he doesn’t have any boots on. He’d dressed for a celebratory evening with his husband and daughter, not the Big Bad Wolf. 

A small tap on the trap door above has him looking up in time to see three lights appear overhead, circling around the roof of the cellar before descending. Finally, but seriously, could their timing be any worse? 

“What are you doing down here?” questions the Red Faerie as she alights on the floor before Tim. “Cellars are no place for a newborn.” 

“They are when they’re the only protection between us and a rampaging wolf that happens to love my husband’s flesh.” 

The Green Faerie makes a noise of disgust. “Is he _still_ doing that? By the Lady above, the curse should be broken now.” 

Tim blinks. A curse? “What curse?” 

“The curse on the Night Faerie,” the Blue Faerie replies like the topic is something everyone is supposed to know. He settles onto the rim of Cassandra’s bin. “He fell in love with a human woman, which infuriated the Night Hag, who was supposed to be his wife.” 

“She cursed the Night Faerie to take the form of a wolf,” the Green Faerie picks up. “For a winged Fae, there is no greater punishment than to never fly again. It’s one of the reasons why he went completely batfuck nuts.” 

Tim remembers Jason saying something to that effect once and nods. “But you said the curse is broken? How?” 

The Red Faerie places a hand on his knee. “Because of your daughter,” she replies. “Jason is the son of the Night Faerie, born of a true love that spanned two worlds. Only if he sired a child with his true love could the curse be broken.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tim stares in horror at the wooden rafters above. “The Big Bad Wolf is my husband’s _father?_ ” 

“Yes.” 

“Shit.” Scrambling to his feet, he races for the stairs, only to come up short when he remembers Cassandra. Dammit, a battle is no place for a newborn, but he can’t leave her alone. 

Wait a second. 

“The wording of the curse…Is Cassandra’s birth supposed to break it or does the Night Faerie need to actually see her?” 

The Blue Faerie looks to his companions, who both reply with varying responses that clearly indicate they don’t know. 

“Godsdammit.” Tim picks up his daughter and darts up the stairs, hoping that he’s not too late and that Jason didn’t barricade them in. The trap door opens easily, and he runs out the still open backdoor, the Three Faeries and Jason’s mage lights flying alongside him. 

In the garden, he comes to a halt, gaping as the last light of day reveals the biggest wolf he’s ever seen in his life standing beside the beech tree. Blacker than night, the top of the beast’s shoulder easily clears the highest point of the roof and his head probably _is_ larger than the cottage itself. His eyes glow an eerie gold that oddly enough matches the golden hue of Jason’s wings when he stands in the sun. 

Jason stands ready, sword drawn and wings flared, staring down the Night Faerie.

His father. 

“Jay!” Tim calls out. “He’s not here to fight!” 

“What in the nine hells are you doing?” Jason shouts, not sparing him a glance as he keeps his eyes on his oldest and deadliest foe. “Just because he hasn’t attacked yet doesn’t mean he won’t. Get back inside.” 

“He’s your father!” 

This time, Jason’s head whips around. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Then he notices the bundle in Tim’s arms. “You brought Cassandra out here? Are you tryin’ to get her killed?!” 

The wolf huffs and a torrent of warm air blows over them all. 

Jason returns his attention to the wolf and raises his sword. “I don’t care who the fuck you are. If you harm a single hair on either of their heads, I will kill you.” 

Distantly, Tim is aware that the sun is no longer kissing the horizon and true dusk falls. 

The effect on the wolf is rather surprising. He falls to his knees and cries out in obvious pain as muscle and bone shift around under the thick fur coat. The snap of breaking bone is loud even to him and Jason takes a step back as the wolf’s maw opens, emitting a howl of pure and utter agony before he collapses entirely. 

A light appears, one that Tim can only describe as magical, and encases the wolf fully. It’s dazzlingly bright and he raises an arm to shield his eyes. When it dims, he lowers it, blinking hard to clear the spots in his vision. 

From a mess of blood, fur, and other viscous fluids he doesn’t want to inspect too closely, a humanoid Fae rises to his feet. The being is tall, taller even than Jason, and so thick and broad that he appears more human in form than any of the other Fae Tim has met. 

Seeing him, now he knows where Jason gets it from, as well as other things. Quickly, he jerks his eyes above the Night Faerie’s waist because he never, ever wanted to know that his husband inherited his fantastic cock from his father. 

Now that he thinks about it though, this is great ammunition to tease Jason with. Eventually. 

The shadows move behind the Night Faerie and Tim gulps when he realizes that it’s not from a leafy tree branch. Over his shoulders are a pair of leathery black wings that probably can span the entire front half of the yard if he bothers to open them. 

But his eyes…they’re the same gold as they were in his wolf form. 

The Three Faeries rush forward, small globes of colored light that chatter in high pitched voices. Tim carefully picks his way through the pumpkins because he was an idiot who’d forgotten to put on his boots in his mad dash out the door and comes to a stop at his husband’s side. 

“Bruce! You’re finally back!” 

“Took you long enough.” 

“Well, you mean it took Jason long enough.” 

“Hey, we had to work really hard to get the Drake line ready for him.” 

“It’s not like true loves just grow on trees, you know.”

“I still want to know why they had to use a cabbage to have a child though. Aren’t humans just supposed to start popping out kids after they’re married?” 

The Red and Green Faeries pause and stare at the Blue Faerie. 

“Really?” 

“Did you miss the part where Timothy is male too?” 

“But they have sex all the time!” 

The Night Faerie—Bruce—holds up a hand and the chatter stops. “How long have I been trapped in that form?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that reminds Tim of distant thunder. 

“By Fae standards, nearly three centuries,” the Green Faerie replies. 

Cassandra chooses that moment to wake up, her little mouth opening and closing in a manner that Tim has already learned means she’s hungry. Her little cry is piercingly loud in the silence that surrounds them. 

“I’ll just go, um, get her bottle ready,” Tim says, glancing between his husband and the four Faeries just outside the gate. “And get the goat out of the cellar.” 

Right. Because that’s exactly what one says in front of their father-in-law for the first time. Great first impression.

* * *

Jason joins him in the cottage a short time later. “Need help with the goat?” he asks, his voice subdued. 

Tim looks up from watching Cassandra eat. “I managed. Are you okay?” 

“Except for pretty much everything, yeah.” He sits down heavily on the kitchen bench and starts unbuckling his armor. 

“Are the Faeries his minions?” Tim asks, asking the first non-invasive question that comes to mind. 

From the amused glint in Jason’s eyes, he apparently sees right through the attempt. “Yeah, they are. From what I was able to gather before I just couldn’t stand there staring at him anymore, the Three Idiots are his retainers. They’ve been keeping an eye on me since I was born. And that dick of a Blue Faerie has fucking _foresight_. What the hell?” 

“He can see the future?” Tim shakes his head. “I sure hope his brainless act is just that—an act.” 

“They’ve been fucking around with your family line since I was born. That dick saw my true love would come from the human world.” Jason looks over to him and the baby. “They’re the ones who sent me to you after the last battle I had with—my dad.” 

The one where he almost died in Tim’s pumpkin patch. 

“I don’t think I want them to bless Cassandra,” Tim states in a firm voice. “I don’t like being manipulated and I don’t want her to be either.” 

Jason nods in agreement. “No argument there. Honestly, I seriously think we should get out of here at first light. We can meet up with Kon and Steph on the road and turn them right the fuck around.” 

“There’s no need to go to such extremes,” a new voice chimes in. “This is a lot for me to absorb too.” 

Tim whips around to see the Night Faerie ducking through the front door. His wingtips brush the rafters, leathery and black as night. And of course, he’s still naked. So Tim, sitting at the hearth as he is with Cassandra, has got a great view of everything. He wonders if Bruce would be offended if he threw a blanket at him. 

“I did not invite you inside,” Jason snaps, glaring. 

“I know, but I wanted to at least see my granddaughter before I left.” 

The tense line of Jason’s shoulders stiffens even more. Then he stands abruptly and marches over to Tim. “You okay with this?” he murmurs. 

Considering how important family means to Jason, despite him growing up without one, this has to be quite the moment. Tim nods. “Just keep any bloodshed outside where the kids can clean it up.” 

He hands over Cassandra and the nearly empty bottle. But instead of remaining seated before the hearth, he stands at Jason’s side as the Night Faerie crosses the floor in three long strides. 

Jason makes no move to interrupt Cassandra’s dinner time and the older Faerie doesn’t either. But he does brush a black-tipped claw delicately across her cheek in a gesture that mirrors the one Jason did earlier. 

“So she is the one who broke my curse,” he says, almost in awe. “With your permission, I would like to be part of her life.” His golden gaze lifts to meet Jason’s. “As well as yours.” 

Tim places a hand on Jason’s back, rubbing lightly through the slits in his tunic at the thick muscle. This is his decision and he’ll support whatever choice he makes. 

“I think we both need some time,” Jason replies in a thick voice. 

“Perhaps Winter Solstice?” Tim adds, naming the first holiday that seems appropriately distanced from the present. Two and a half months isn’t that far away. 

Bruce nods. “That sounds more than fair.” He pauses, then continues. “Jason, I am truly sorry for all the pain I have caused you. It was never my intention to—I didn’t know it was you. The curse, it stripped me of everything that I was, turned me into a mindless beast that only wanted to kill. I am—I am not like that. At all.” 

The crackle from the fire is the only sound while Jason works out a response. Cassandra finishes her bottle and sleepily sucks on the leathery nipple. Wordlessly, she’s handed over to Tim who is already prepared with the burping cloth. 

“One day, I will be able to accept your apology,” Jason eventually says, still gripping the empty bottle. “But right now, I just can’t. I need time to think.” 

“I understand.” Bruce reaches out to stroke Cassandra’s downy hair. “May I ask one boon of you before I leave?” 

“Tell me first and then I’ll let you know.” 

“I would like to bless your daughter.” 

Tim and Jason share a look loaded with unspoken meaning. They’d just agreed not to let the Three Idiots anywhere near Cassandra, but this is Jason’s father. It lends an entirely different gravitas to the decision. 

“I’m okay with that if you are,” Tim says in a quiet voice. 

Jason sighs. “Fine. But no funny business about only finding pleasure with her true love because that one was seriously a pain in the ass for both of us.” 

“Okay?” Bruce’s dark brow arches in clear confusion. “Was that…?” 

“One of mine?” Tim replies. “Yup. From the Blue Faerie. I ended up getting divorced because of it. It was hell on my sex life until Jason fell into my garden.” 

The Night Faerie opens and closes his mouth a few times, clearly wanting to know the story and at the same time not. He settles for clearing his throat instead. “My blessing doesn’t involve sex or true loves.” 

“Good.” Tim hears a quiet _burp_ from his daughter and spray of warmth as she spits up some of her milk. She fusses for a moment, then settles down. He hands her back to Jason, who takes the end of the blanket and cleans her mouth. 

Thank the gods they’ve both had a chance to practice with Jon before coming out here, otherwise, they’d be so fucked. 

Bruce rests a clawed hand lightly over her chest and starts to speak. “Blood of my blood, child of two worlds. I bless you with strength, of heart and limb. With the courage to fight for what is just and the wisdom to recognize which battles are worth fighting. My precious granddaughter, Cassandra.” 

A pulse of power throbs through the room as the blessing takes root. No faerie dust for him, apparently. 

“Thank you,” Tim says when Jason doesn’t. “Although, I’ve a feeling she’s going to give me more than a few gray hairs because of those.” 

“It is the duty of a child to make their parents feel their age.” Bruce’s lips quirk into a brief smile. “But you two are bonded, so it will be a long time before your hair changes color.” 

“Bonded?” Jason asks, finally looking up from their daughter. “Tim and I aren’t bonded.” 

“You two are true loves and you haven’t bonded yet?” Bruce looks as confused as he sounds. “You are Fae, my son. Your love is human. If you do not bond with him, then you will lose him far sooner than you should.”

“I know that,” Jason replies in a testy voice. “Tim’s been researching it when we visit Fae but hasn’t had any luck figuring out how it’s done yet.” 

Much to Tim’s dismay. So much for his big brain and solving that particular riddle. It’s been pissing him off, especially now that he’s pushing thirty. Too much longer, and he’ll appear older than Jason. 

Bruce’s golden eyes flicker between the two of them before he shakes his head. “Face each other and extend your left hands.” 

“What?”

“Do it.”

Tim does as he’s been told and after a moment, Jason does the same, adjusting his hold on Cassandra first. 

Bruce shoves the sleeve of Tim’s shirt over his elbow and adjusts his arm so that his wrist is facing upward. “Jason, do the same,” he orders. 

He complies with a glare. 

Swiftly, so fast that Tim barely has a chance to reel from the flash of pain, both of their wrists are bleeding. 

“Press the wounds together and speak the words you know to be true in your hearts.” 

Jason seems to understand first because he grips Tim’s wrist firmly, their blood mingling together. 

Oh. _Oh._ Tim clasps Jason’s wrist with a firm hold of his own. 

“I love you, Timothy Jackson Drake. You’re a pain in my ass and drive me up the wall more often than not, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you now and until eternity.” Jason’s green eyes flash as one half of the oath is spoken. 

Tim ponders his next words, but like Bruce said, he decides to go with what’s in his heart. “You saved me, Jason. I’d given up on finding my true love. But you found me, and I have loved you every day since with all my heart and soul. I will love you until the end of time and beyond.”

He isn’t sure if his eyes do the same thing, but there’s no mistaking the heat and pulse of power that’s suddenly racing through him. It’s as though lightning has just struck outside and he’s close enough to feel the shock. But then it’s over as fast as it happened, leaving him utterly breathless. 

“It is done,” Bruce proclaims with a solemn nod. “I am glad I was able to do that much for you.” 

Jason turns to his father, still not releasing Tim’s wrist. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

“If circumstances had been different, you would have grown up knowing that this was all that you needed to do. Perhaps in time, I can show you more about what it means to be the son of the Night Faerie.” 

Jason’s gold and red wings flutter, probably on purpose if Tim has to guess. “These aren’t exactly made for stealth. They hum when I fly, kinda like a bumble bee.” 

“We’ll work on it.” 

They exchange a few more words before Bruce bows out, leaving them to settle in for the night with a promise to visit Bristol at mid-winter. Tim can’t help noticing that his ass is just as fantastic as the rest of him. 

The door is barely closed when his knees finally give out. “Holy fuck,” Tim says from the floor. “If I wasn’t trying to be a responsible parent, I’d say I need a drink right about now.” 

Jason squats down beside him. “No shit. You okay?” 

“Yeah. Just a lot happened today, you know?” 

“You’re tellin’ me.” He lets out a sigh. “Gotta admit though, a lot of my anger went right out the window the moment he showed us how to bond.” 

The wounds on their wrists are already scabbing over. Idly, Tim wonders if he’ll heal more like Jason does now. That isn’t something he cares to test, not right now at least. There’s something else on his mind. 

“Should we put Cassandra to bed and celebrate?” He waggles his brows for good measure. 

Jason laughs and leans over to kiss him. “You’re insatiable.” 

“Never pretended to be otherwise. I want you to ride me into oblivion tonight. Think you can handle that?”

“As long as we don’t wake up our daughter, I can handle whatever you dish out.”

* * *

A mist is starting to rise as Bruce closes the gate in the low stone wall surrounding the cottage. Inside, he can hear the happiness in his lost son’s voice, and it warms his heart. 

“You didn’t tell him,” Kori says as she steps out from behind a tree in her true form. 

“I thought it best to wait,” he replies. “He has a lot to cope with right now. Besides, I don’t even know where to start the search.” 

Dick joins his wife, chin resting familiarly on her shoulder. “I do.” 

“Of course you do,” Damian tuts as he steps out onto the path. His true form is taller than Bruce remembers, but it has been a couple of centuries since he’d seen his child. 

“Why didn’t you tell Jason that you are his brothers?” Bruce questions. 

“Because if we did, then in no future I saw would he have ever met Tim,” Dick replies solemnly. “He couldn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know about his mother.” 

Damian crosses his arms and looks away. “If we’d only known about him sooner, then I might have been able to stop Mother from what she did.” 

Bruce tucks his son under his arm, embracing him. It still amazes him that a being like Talia was able to birth such a tenderhearted boy. “You are not to blame for what happened. None of you are.” 

“But I should have _seen_ it!” Dick protests. 

“What’s done, is done,” Bruce says. “You all have done a wonderful job, considering the circumstances. Now let’s go and leave your brother in peace. We’ll see him at mid-winter and if we’re lucky, there will be another person to introduce him to.” 

“Where are we off to?” Kori asks, looking to Dick. 

His eyes glow blue as he invokes his gift. “To the east,” he eventually replies. “We’re looking for a cat with nine lives.”

  
  


THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end for real this time!
> 
> I just want to send a massive shout out to Bumpkin and FictionSuit for all their help on this story. It would not be what it is without them.
> 
> Also, just in case anyone asks, I specifically left it vague whether their daughter is Cass Cain or Cassie Sandsmark (there are far too many repeating character names in the DCU). Let your imaginations run wild!


End file.
